


Time and Again

by Kmomof4



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Additional Tags: Modern AU, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Boss/employee relationship (no power dynamic issues), Evidence of Physical Abuse, Execution, F/M, Following tags are NOT between CS, Indentured Servitude, Kidnapping, Pirate Dreams, Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, Shared Dreams, Smut, Soulmates, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 18:37:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20158213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmomof4/pseuds/Kmomof4
Summary: Advertising executive Emma Swan may think that her boss Killian Jones is attractive, but she buries that attraction underneath strict professionalism at all times. Until he starts showing up in her dreams, and in increasingly intimate scenarios. Will she lower her emotional walls enough to see if her boss and the man in her dreams are one and the same?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Hello again everyone! I’m back! This fic is inspired by a romance novel I read in high school called Time After Time, by Billie Green. Canon dialog and the characters belong to Adam and Eddy. I’ve just played with them a bit. There are two types of line breaks contained in the fic. The ones that go halfway across are scene changes, while the short ones signify a change of POV or time jump within the same scene. Much love and all the hugs to my besties and brainstorm/beta/encourager team of HollyeLeigh and winterbaby89. Extra special shout out to the CSSNS discord ladies for repeatedly bailing me out when I got stuck, listening to me whine, a LOT, and constantly encouraging me not to give up! I hope you all enjoy my next foray into writing CS fanfiction. The story is complete and I’ll be updating on Sundays and Thursdays for the next five weeks.

Emma Swan stepped off the elevator and walked into the busy foyer of Jones Brothers Advertising. Waving to Belle at the front desk and wishing her a good morning, she started toward her office before she heard Belle calling her name.

“Emma.” Belle waved her back over to the desk.

“Hey, Belle,” she replied. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to remind you about lunch today with Mary Margaret, Ruby, and the new girl, Tina Bell,” the brunette said. “Just to welcome her to the office.”

“Oh, right,” she responded. “I forgot she was starting today. Okay,” she said, glancing at her watch, “I have a meeting with Mr. Jones at nine about the Neverland campaign. We’ll be done before twelve, because I know he has a lunch meeting with their CEO today.”

“That’s great. I’ll let the others know and we’ll see you then.”

Emma continued on her way to her office to get ready for the meeting with her boss. The Neverland Cruises campaign was finally winding down after almost nine months of revamping their advertising strategy. The launch date of their new campaign was less than a month away now, and it was crunch time. Emma, as a Senior Executive of Marketing, reported directly to the younger of the Jones brothers, Killian, and she found herself in almost daily meetings with the man going over the numbers that her team had gathered as the launch date loomed. Very particular in his tastes and in his expectations of his employees, Emma knew that she needed to be ready for anything he threw at her.

Greeting her secretary, Ariel, Emma grabbed her appointment schedule for the day and pushed her way into her office, secretly thrilled with the fact that she had her own secretary, even if she did share her with the two other Senior Executives. After looking over her schedule, her eyes landed on her desk and the pile of papers that spoke to the fact of her late night at the office last night, and the late night she’d have tonight as well. _Not here, _she thought. _Everything’s coming home with me tonight. At least I can have a glass of wine with my dinner. _Satisfied with her plans, she sat down and started one last review before she was expected in Mr. Jones’s office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian Jones finished replying to an email and looked up at the vintage nautical clock hanging on the wall across from his desk. Emma Swan was expected in his office soon to go over the final results of all the research that her team was responsible for in the Neverland Cruises ad campaign. She was always exactly on time, so he knew that he had a few minutes to indulge in thinking about the golden haired goddess who so often haunted his dreams. _Only a few minutes though, so I’d better not get too carried away, lest she finds me in a…_ he cleared his throat,_ less than professional situation,_ he thought as his pants already started to tighten. It was a good thing he was at his desk._ I’ll just have to stay here until things calm down. _He looked around his office, at the wooden and nautical accents throughout, trying to bring his libido under control before she graced him with her presence.

It wasn’t always this bad. He had become well practiced in hiding his attraction to his beautiful employee over the years. Burying his desire underneath strict professionalism at all times. Never letting go of his iron control when it came to his subordinate. Given the situation they were in as boss and employee, he couldn’t afford to try to pursue something with her that might end with her no longer working at Jones Brothers Advertising and him never seeing her again. Not to mention the fact that she was the leading candidate for the Vice-President of Marketing position for the new Los Angeles branch that would be opening after the new year. It was that thought that finally did the trick in bringing his ardor under control just as she entered his office.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones,” she greeted him as she strode confidently into the room. Her lithe figure was adorned with a black check printed ruffled top with black pencil skirt that ended just above her knee. With her long blonde curls loose over her shoulders and her three inch heels, Killian had to remind himself that she wasn’t his, had never been his, and never would be his as he struggled to not stride over to her, pull her into his arms, and kiss her senseless. Fitting his professional mask in place, hopefully before she got a good look at him, he answered her.

“Good morning, Miss Swan. Are we ready with everything?”

“I have it all right here, sir,” she replied, setting the papers before him on his desk. As she did, the scent of vanilla reached him and he had to fight to keep from staring into her beautiful green eyes. Looking down at the first document of a rather large pile they would need to get through this morning, he resigned himself to his lot of being around the, thankfully oblivious, object of his affection.

*~*~*~*

Emma thought back to when she first entered Mr. Jones office. After greeting him, she thought she saw a flash of… something, in his eyes before his countenance settled into the professionalism she was used to.

His appearance was as professional as ever, but she still had to suppress a shiver of awareness as she took him in. His black hair was artfully mussed with just a few strands falling down over his forehead. Black scruff with just a hint of ginger lined his strong jaw. His suit jacket was missing, but the gray waistcoat and candy striped dress shirt, whose sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off muscular forearms, accentuated his trim physique. Even hours later, she still couldn’t help but wonder what those arms would feel like wrapped around her, or what that scruff would feel like in certain places on her body.

She mentally gave herself a shake, _mind out of the gutter Swan_, and got back to the business at hand, determined to put aside her unprofessional musings. There was never any chance anyway. He only saw her as a work machine. And if she messed up, she was a broken machine in need of replacement. If she got the promotion to the new LA branch, she’d still be answering to him, but she wouldn’t be in the office with him every day, battling and hiding her attraction day in and day out. She stuffed the inappropriate thoughts down into that area of her heart and mind where all of her illicit thoughts of him resided. Hopefully, never to see the light of day again.

*~*~*

“What is this?” His bark brought Emma back to the present and made her jump just a little. Looking up from where she had been perusing the final numbers tracing the demographics they were targeting for the campaign, she took in the stormy visage of his brow simply known as The Frown.

Yes, it actually had a title.

That’s because it was the one that completely transformed his normally serious, but still handsome face into one that had earned him the nickname Vulcan, behind his back, of course, after the Roman god of fire. It was the look that left the Senior Executives shaking in their boots and scrambling to find and fix whatever it was that had displeased the Senior Vice President of Marketing and sent the underlings scurrying to get out of his way.

“What is what?” she responded. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she rose and joined him on the other side of the conference table. Leaning over his shoulder, she could immediately see what the problem was. She shook her head as her eyes widened then sent a chagrined smile his way. “Walter couldn’t find his own ass with both hands and a flashlight,” she murmured before looking back down at the document measuring the rating for the campaign.

The loud laugh that made its way out of her boss’s mouth had Emma looking back at him, completely startled. His head was thrown back, jaw open, the chords on his neck standing out, eyes shut as his body shook from unhindered mirth. In that instant, all the attraction that she had felt from the very first day of her employment that she buried deep down, came roaring back to the front of her mind. She stood there, dumbstruck, as her boss, _Vulcan_, the always professional, reserved, never ruffled man, the one that she had worked under for closing in on a decade, that never smiled, much less laughed, howled as if his sides would split. When he finally got his mirth under control, he opened his eyes which were now sparkling a dazzling blue. _Dear Lord,_ she thought, _the man isn’t just handsome, he is gorgeous! _She continued to stare at him after that startling revelation until his still unusually bright eyes landed on her.

“What is it, Miss Swan?” he asked, forehead beginning to furrow in prelude to The Frown.

“N- nothing, sir…” she stammered. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard or seen you laugh before.” She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the stray thoughts his amusement had generated. Not to mention, the arousal.

“Well, considering that I’ve never heard you say something funny before, we can call it even,” he quipped.

Flustered, she picked up the document from the table as she checked the time on her watch. It was nearly time to meet the others for lunch. “I’ll take this home with me tonight, and have the correct figures on your desk first thing in the morning, sir.”

“See that you do,” he responded. “I’m meeting Peter in twenty minutes for a business lunch. I’ll just have to skim over this portion of the update. I’ll expect your report before 9am. That will be all, Miss Swan.” It was a dismissal if she ever heard one, and she knew she had her work cut out for her this afternoon and evening.

“Yes, sir.” Gathering her other documents, she put them all in her case and hurried out.

Making her way back into her office, Emma found Ruby Lucas sitting in front of her desk tapping on her phone with her blood red manicure.

“Emma,” she exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. “We’re ready! Let’s go to lunch!” Her friend looped her arm through Emma’s and started to drag her to the door.

“What! Am I late?” she questioned. She glanced at her watch. “I’m not late, it’s only 11:45. Let me at least put my stuff down and make a couple of notes on what I’ll be working on this afternoon, then I’ll be ready.”

“Ugh, fine,” the woman huffed, sitting herself down again. “I’m just ready to get out of here for a long lunch. I’ll be so glad when this campaign is launched and over. Even Granny is starting to feel the pressure. She’s been on a terror this morning.” Emma smiled with affection at the thought of “Granny” Lucas. Not actually related to Ruby, she was a matronly figure that insisted everyone call her Granny. She had raised the Jones brothers after their parents were killed in a car accident and had been in charge of HR, Ruby’s department, since the office opened.

“There. Done. Now I’m ready,” she declared, straightening up and coming around her desk. “Where are we going? Where are M’s and Tina? I saw Belle was still at her desk.”

“They went on ahead to get a table at that new bistro that opened up, Down the Street Cafe,” Ruby replied. “If the rumors are to be believed, if they hadn’t gotten there by 11:15, we wouldn’t get a table until after 1.”

“I see,” she murmured, as Ruby looped her arm through hers again, leading her toward the door. “Well, lead the way, my friend. Can’t leave them waiting any longer than we already have. M’s will dish all the gossip before we get there.”

Ruby threw back her head laughing as they made their way over to Belle waiting for them at the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally entering the crowded restaurant, Emma could see Mary Margaret waving frantically at them to join them at the table. Taking their seats, Emma reached out to shake Tina’s hand as Mary Margaret made introductions. Once their orders were taken, Ruby drawled, “So, now that we’re all here, we can get down to business.” Her green eyes danced. “Gossip.” The others all laughed at Ruby’s wolfish grin, as she looked affronted with their glee. “What? We all know that’s why we’re here,” she asserted, “besides welcoming Tina to the office, of course. And what better way to welcome her than letting her in on all the office goings on?”

“Did you see Frederick and his new girl?” Mary Margaret asked. “I think her name’s Abigail, from Accounting.”

“Oh, yes,” Ruby replied enthusiastically. “She’s pretty, but very standoffish. They were locked in his office for two hours yesterday!”

“And guess who found _her_,” Belle nodded toward Ruby, “with her ear against the door?”

“No!” Emma squealed as the other ladies dissolved into hysterical laughter while Ruby dramatically faceplanted onto the table.

“Yes,” Ruby groaned, her voice muffled by the table. Looking up, she turned to Emma and grabbed her wrist. “He gave me The Frown Emma, and I froze. I literally couldn’t move. I found myself hoping there was a history of heart attacks in my family so I’d at least have a chance of dying on the spot. And do you know what he said?”

“What?” Emma was still having trouble bringing her giggles under control.

“‘When you’re done praying, Miss Lucas’ you know in that deep silky voice of his, ‘I need Tina Bell’s personnel file on my desk.’ I thought I would die,” she finished with her usual flair.

“Oh, tell me about Mr. Jones,” the young blonde sighed. “He’s so dreamy.” She had a far away look in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips as Emma rolled her eyes at the swooning of the young woman.

“Which one?” she asked, “There are two of them you know, but one’s taken,” she continued, cutting her eyes to Belle as the woman blushed furiously.

Understanding dawned in Tina’s eyes as she caught sight of the blushing woman who was looking everywhere except at her companions. “Oh! I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed. “I meant Killian. Is Liam yours, Belle?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call him _mine,_ exactly,” Belle protested, as her companions made various sounds of laughter and disbelief, “We haven’t been dating that long and we’re not calling it anything, I mean.”

“Oh, honey,” Mary Margaret said, placing her hand on Belle’s arm, “That man is so head over heels for you, you don’t _have_ to call it anything for all of us to see exactly what it is. Soulmates.” The dreamy expression on Mary Margaret’s face had Emma rolling her eyes again.

Emma snorted. “Soulmates, huh?” She could almost hear her mother telling her that her eyes were going to get stuck like that if she rolled them any harder. “There’s no such thing.”

More sounds of laughter and disbelief erupted from around the table, with poor Tina absolutely indignant at Emma’s assertion. “Of course there’s such a thing as soulmates,” she exclaimed. “My parents have been together for thirty years. And they are as happy today as on their wedding day. If that’s not soulmates, I don’t know what is.”

Ruby cackled with a wide grin. “Ohhhh Tina. You just waved a red flag in front of our Destined True Love Destruction Bull, also known as Emma, over there.”

“Listen to what I’m saying,” Emma responded. “I’m not saying that love doesn’t exist. Or that there are not good, happy, long lasting marriages. What I’m saying is that the whole idea of _soulmates _or _fated by the stars _or _destined_ doesn’t exist.” The contempt dripped from her lips as she put air quotes around the cliched phrases. “Love and marriage are hard work,” she continued, “and it takes two to make it work. It’s a matter of choosing someone _every day_. Of choosing that relationship above all else. For the rest of your life.” A cloud of melancholy settled on Emma’s brow as she remembered her own heartache. Her own experience of _not_ being chosen every day.

She met Neal her sophomore year in college and fell in love as only a nineteen year old could. She did Neal’s cooking, she did Neal’s cleaning, she did Neal’s laundry, she helped him write papers, she helped him study. She gave 150% to the budding relationship. Until she found out that the one who she thought was _the one _was sleeping with her roommate, and her lab partner, and the RA of her dorm.

Mary Margaret spoke up, bringing her back to the present, green eyes blazing with sincerity, “Yes, you’re right, Emma. Love and marriage are hard work, and it does take two, and you do have to choose that relationship every day, but when it’s with the person you are _supposed_ to be with, it makes the effort and the fight that much easier and more rewarding.” She turned her eyes upon Tina then. “My David is absolutely my soulmate.. He is the one my soul loves. The one I would be lost without. To borrow a phrase from _Forrest Gump_, he completes me. And the fact that he’s gorgeous certainly doesn’t hurt,” the petite brunette finished with a smirk.

Belle snorted before replying, “That wasn’t _Forrest Gump_, M’s. That was _Jerry Maguire_.”

“Pfft,” she blew out, “Whatever. The point stands.”

“If she decides to wait for her _destined_ _soulmate_, she may never find love. She needs to have realistic expectations when looking for a lover or spouse,” Emma interjected. “There will always be something wrong with the other person. Something that drives you crazy. Something that consistently irritates you, like leaving the toilet seat up. Throwing away a good relationship because of small issues that in the big picture don’t matter, is just stupid! ‘He can’t be my soulmate, because my soulmate would never…’ fill in the blank. And staying in a bad relationship because ‘Oh, he’s my soulmate’ is just as bad, if not worse.” Emma crossed her arms over her torso, thoughts of how close she came to doing just that sending a chill through her body. “By all means, Tina,” she continued, “fall in love. But be realistic about it. Be prepared to fight for it, even when the going gets tough, which it will. And don’t lose yourself in the process. Falling in love doesn’t mean that you are no longer your own person. It simply means that you are choosing to join yourself to another.”

“Well, of course there will be things about him that irritate you,” Mary Margaret responded. “But having that soulmate connection makes it easier and more worthwhile to fight through those tough times.”

“Having a soulmate does make the struggles more worthwhile in the end,” Belle argued. “I like to believe there is someone out there just for me, and maybe that’s Liam. I do care for him deeply,” she looked away again, blushing, “and I am starting to see a future with him. A happy one.” There was a collective “Awwwww” from around the table. Even Emma joined in.

“Well, anyone with eyes can see how much Liam adores you, Belle,” Ruby acknowledged. “And if anyone deserves love, it’s you.” Ruby pulled her friend in for a sideways hug.

Tina looked far away and dreamy again. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind waking up to Killian Jones’ face every morning. Anna in payroll said that he’d been married before, but that she died seven years ago and he hasn’t so much as looked at anyone since. I must have looked a little starry eyed when he walked me over there.” She looked at her tablemates a little sheepishly and sighed.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Ruby blurted out, eyes wide, “Crap, I hope he didn’t hear us,” she whispered to her companions.

Emma turned around and saw none other than Killian Jones approaching their table with the CEO of Neverland Cruises, Peter Pan, right in front of him. A quick gasp kept her laughter at bay at the sight of the CEO. He looked like he was about twenty years old and yes, his name really was Peter Pan. When the trust fund baby had inherited the family cruise line business at the age of twenty-two, he promptly renamed it Neverland Cruises to take advantage of the family name and literary notoriety. That was eight years ago and his former CEO had nearly run it into the ground before Peter took the reins, hiring his Rice University roommate Killian Jones to revamp his advertising campaign to turn the business around. As Killian passed their table, he smiled and nodded congenially to them as he spoke, “I hope this place is as good as I’ve heard. Enjoy your lunch ladies.”

A chorus of ‘goodbye’ and ‘you too’ followed the men as they continued on toward their table.

“Yep,” Tina sighed, turning back to her new coworkers, “I definitely wouldn’t mind waking up to his face everyday. Even if he did leave the toilet seat up.” The rest of the table erupted into laughter as their food was served.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma had ordered a large entree at lunch earlier fully expecting to finish it at home that evening. She didn’t like cooking for one, so when she knew she’d be working late, she either ordered a large lunch to bring home with her or raided her takeout menu drawer as soon as she walked in the door.

Tossing her briefcase on the sofa, she walked into the kitchen and pulled out the bottle of wine that was left over from the weekend girls night she had hosted last weekend. After pouring herself a glass and taking a sip, she made her way back into the living room, turned on the tv and pulled up her Netflix queue. On nights that she worked late, she didn’t even pay attention to what she was choosing, simply clicking on the first thing that came up. She never watched it. She only wanted the background noise, the sound of another human voice in the otherwise quiet apartment. She pulled her papers out of her briefcase and opened her leftovers, diving in to her dinner, her wine, and her work.

Hours later, Emma looked up and noticed that she was finished with season two of Black Sails. _Well,_ she thought, _I’ll have to go back and see what I missed. _Stretching with a mighty yawn, she could feel her vertebrae realigning after so long looking down at her work. It was nearly midnight and she was ready to go to bed. _I’ll definitely sleep well tonight,_ she thought.

Moments after her head hit the pillow, Emma blinked in the bright sunshine and realized that the reason for her blinking was the fact that she was above the clouds and there was nothing between her and the blinding rays of the sun beating down on her. She also became aware that she was holding onto something big and green, and that she couldn’t see the ground below her. She screamed and clutched at the vines before her for dear life, just before she heard a very familiar voice to her right.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” Emma turned toward the voice and found herself face to face with none other than Killian Jones. Her stomach did a little flip as his blue eyes met her terrified green ones, but whether it was from the scare or just being this close to him, she really couldn’t tell. “But honestly Swan, it’s only a dream, you’re not gonna fall, so there’s no reason for the theatrics.”

“Theatrics?!” she exclaimed, “You think my reaction is…” she shook her head, trying to clear it, “theatrics?” It was only then that she realized what her boss was wearing. A leather greatcoat that if he were standing, would fall below his knees, black, skin tight, leather pants, a black billowy shirt with most of the buttons undone underneath a red waistcoat. The guyliner surrounding his eyes, rings on his fingers, a dangly black earring, and artfully mussed black hair completed the picture of a rogue pirate captain. “And look at you! What are you wearing? And how do you know this is a dream?” she questioned.

“Well, as you so helpfully pointed out,” he smirked, “there is the matter of the way I’m dressed. I’m not aware of owning any such clothing, although these leather pants are quite comfortable, if I’m honest,” he said, shrugging. She looked over at him and perused the garment in question. They certainly fit him well. The pants hugged his hips and thighs and what she could see of his calves. Her heart stuttered in her chest. “There is also the matter of your appearance. I’ve dreamt of you before, you see, quite often actually, and you are usually… a little more bare than you are now,” he admitted, eyes roaming up and down her form. Emma tried very hard to ignore the shiver that ran through her at his assessing gaze.

At that very moment, Emma’s baby duck pajama bottoms and yellow camisole she wore to bed that night disappeared, giving her a very good idea of the kind of dreams Mr. Jones usually had of her. She was as naked as the day she was born, but she couldn’t let go of the vines in front of her to try and cover herself. “Put them back,” she screeched, “put my clothes back right now, Mr. Jones!”

“As you wish, Swan,” he replied. Her clothes were instantly back in place as he looked away with a bright flush to his cheeks that reached down past his ginger scruff onto his neck. “And third,” he continued, still looking away from her up the beanstalk, “there is the matter of our location. I have no idea how we got here or what we’re supposed to do now.”

“Let go,” she said, as an idea came to her. “Let’s let go, Jones. Then we’ll have to wake up.” Her eyes twinkled with her seemingly brilliant plan.

“Uh, no,” he argued, “People die in their sleep Swan, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to actually wake up from this dream. And given our circumstances, maybe you should call me Killian.” He looked away again, the flush back in full force as he looked up. “I think we should just keep climbing, see where we end up.”

Since he wasn’t willing to let go with her, and she definitely wasn’t going to do it by herself, she realized she didn’t have a choice but to follow him up the beanstalk. Because that is exactly what it was, a beanstalk. _What even is my life?_ she thought as she started to climb.

Some time later, Killian looked over at her. “You know, most men might take your silence as off-putting, but, I love a challenge,” he commented, black eyebrows waggling.

“I’m concentrating,” Emma replied. “I’d really like to actually make it to the top and not fall to my death as you so helpfully pointed out,” she grumbled.

“No, you’re afraid to talk, to reveal yourself,” he pointed out. He was silent for a moment as he continued to climb. “Well, I don’t need you to share. You’re something of an open book.”

“Am I?” she asked.

“Quite,” he answered. “You have the same look in your eye that I have. The look of someone who’s been left alone.”

“What do you mean, ‘left alone?’” she asked, confusion and alarm furrowing her brow. “Weren’t you raised by Granny? And you have your brother, too.” _I didn’t have anyone, _she thought, _not until Ingrid, anyway. And that was almost too late to count._

“Aye,” he replied, “but Granny didn’t take us in until after our mother and father died in a car accident.” Emma could see the pain of his revelation plainly written on his face. “So yes, I’ve been left alone by two of the people who are never supposed to leave. And while I do have my brother, an orphan’s an orphan. One recognizes another.” He looked away from her then, clearly uncomfortable with his revelation as he gazed upwards. “Love has been all too rare in your life, hasn’t it?” he asked, looking back into her eyes. “Have you ever even been in love?”

“No,” she answered him, slightly breathless with exertion and the intensity of his gaze. “I have never been in love.” She turned away from him then and continued climbing. She’d be damned if she was going to let him know how much he affected her. And how close to the mark he really was.

They finally made it to the top of the monstrous plant. Emma’s arms and legs felt like jelly, as she let go and landed on concrete. As Killian joined her on the ground, he grabbed her arm and turned her toward him. “Come here,” he said, “Give me your hand. It’s cut.”

“What? No, no,” she argued, trying to pull back from him. “it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he argued right back. “Let me help you.” He pulled a flask out of one of the many pockets in his coat and uncorked it. “Ah.” He took a sniff. “I thought that’s what it might be,” he remarked. “Rum. Goes with the costume anyway.” He shrugged and started pouring the liquid over her hand as she screeched and tried to snatch it away from him.

“Ah, ah, AHHH!” she exclaimed, still trying to get her hand out of his. He held her firmly however as he pulled a large scarf she hadn’t noticed before from around his neck and started to wrap her hand with it. Holding her close with one arm, Emma felt the tingle of awareness trickle down her spine. She was also aware of the increase in her heart rate as she watched him work. When he finally finished wrapping the scarf, he was left with only one hand to secure it since his other was still occupied with holding her still. Arousal flooded her and she let out a small gasp of surprise as he finally took one end of the scarf in his mouth as he looked up at her through his dark lashes while he pulled it tight and tucked it into the wrap.

“See now,” he whispered, pulling back and patting her hand, “all better.” He looked deeply into her eyes, daring her to look away. She stood transfixed at what she read in the azure blue depths. Her mouth hung slightly open as she shook herself out of her stupor. Finally looking around at their surroundings, his penetrating gaze and her arousal were completely forgotten. They appeared to be in the courtyard of a gigantic castle. Much larger than anything down below on earth. The dimensions were mind boggling. The courtyard was the size of a football field. The parapets above were at least a hundred feet high, and the door, for lack of a better word, had to be at least seventy feet high, even from this distance. “Well,” her companion commented, wryly, “I guess that answers that question.”

“What question?” she asked.

“Where we are, darling,” he answered. “Given the size of the castle before us, not to mention the way we got here, I’d say we’re in a land of giants.”

At that moment, the concrete of the courtyard started to shake as evidence of Killian’s speculation became visible on the other side of the courtyard. It only took the giants moments to reach them as they struggled to keep their balance amid the shaking of the ground. “Halt! Who goes there?” the smallest of the giants asked.

Killian stepped forward and to the side as he reached out toward Emma trying to draw her behind him. “I’m Killian Jones, and my friend here is Emma Swan. We’re strangers here, and we’d like nothing more than to leave you and your land in peace.” Emma was no fool and she knew there was no way they could successfully fight their way out of the situation.

“Oh no!” The largest giant laughed. “We know who you are, pirate.”

“Pirate?” Killian exclaimed, “No, no, no. I’m no pirate.”

Emma spoke up behind him, “No! He’s my boss. He’s not really a pirate. This is a dream, you see-” But the giant cut her off.

“A dream?” he asked, incredulous. “No, this is no dream. He is a pirate, here to steal our magic beans. And I can only guess that you are here to be used as a distraction. So you both will be taken to the dungeon.” As the giant made to reach for Killian, he shoved her back towards the beanstalk they had been slowly and surreptitiously moving towards since the beginning of the encounter.

“Run, Swan!” he shouted, turning just fast enough to evade the giant’s grasp. They both made a running leap onto the beanstalk and started making their way down it as fast as they could. They could hear the giants up above them shouting and the entire beanstalk shook violently as two giants started climbing down after them.

“Well, it looks like we’ll have to try my idea after all,” Emma shouted, looking up towards their rapidly descending pursuers.

“Aye, that it does, love,” Killian replied, chagrin lacing his tone. He looked over at her, his blue eyes unusually bright as he reached his hand out to her. “On three?”

“On three,” she agreed, taking his hand in hers. “One. Two. Three.” They let go of the beanstalk simultaneously… And Emma woke up in her bed with her alarm blaring.

_Damn,_ _what the hell was that dream? _Her foggy, sleep addled brain unhelpfully asked. _And who in the world was that with me? Someone else with Jones’ face. Because there is no way that was my boss. He was forward, but a gentleman. He was open, perceptive, and protective too. Yep, definitely not my boss. _She shook her head and, determined to put the dream out of her head, got out of bed and got herself ready for work. But not before noticing a scar on her palm that hadn’t been there when she went to bed the night before.


	2. Ch.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for Indentured Servitude, Mentions of Physical Abuse, and Sexual Harassment.

Emma strode into the office still uneasy about the dream and scar she woke up with. Greeting Belle, who looked at her a little more sharply than usual, she continued to her office. _Oh no, _she thought,_ Please don’t ask, please don’t ask, please don’t ask..._

“Emma?” the brunette asked. “Are you alright? You don’t look like you slept well.”

“What?” Emma floundered, shaking her head, _Well, so much for that idea,_ “Yeah, I’m fine. I think the campaign is getting to me. Had some really weird dreams last night.” No way was she going any further than that with the woman. She may be her friend, but there were some things that couldn’t even be shared with friends. Especially one as perceptive as Belle. Who knew what she might read into the dream? Or the scar for that matter.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” she conceded. Her brow was still a little furrowed.

“Thanks though,” Emma offered sincerely, placing her hand on her friend’s arm. “I appreciate you looking out for me. Two and a half more weeks and this will all be over.”

“Amen to that,” Belle exclaimed. “I’ll see you later for lunch then?”

“Yes, ma’am, you will. See you at noon.” Emma walked toward her office, finally able to put the disconcerting dream and the aftermath behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So,” Emma said, settling herself in the booth across from Belle, “have you ever heard of an injury in a dream showing up in real life? After the dream?” So maybe she wasn’t as successful as she thought she was in putting the dream behind her. Going around and around in her head all morning, the thought of where the scar came from just wouldn’t leave her alone. It had made her morning singularly unproductive as the puzzle was never far from the front of her mind.

“Oh yes,” Belle replied, “I remember hearing about something like that. It was apparently very well documented by psychiatrist Archie Hopper. A man, who had an extremely vivid dream in which he lost his legs, woke up to find marks on his legs where he had lost them in the dream. The scars were still visible thirty years later.”

“Wow.” Emma sat dumbstruck, slack jawed at the revelation. What did that mean for the dream? Was it possible that what happened in the dream was real?

“Why do you ask?” Belle wondered.

“Uh... oh… uh, no reason… really,” she stammered. “Just those weird dreams last night, I cut my hand. And this morning, there was a scar.” She held her hand out to her showing the thin line as a memory of sparkling blue eyes, a firm arm behind her back, and the luscious mouth of a pirate danced across her mind.

“Wow,” her companion breathed, bending over her hand as if she was going to tell her her fortune or something. “It’s one thing to read about, it’s another to see it in living color. What was the dream?”

Emma’s heart sank. She couldn’t possibly tell Belle exactly what the dream was. Could she? Emma looked at her friend from underneath her lowered lashes. She wasn’t Mary Margaret, seeing soulmates everywhere she looked. Nor was she Ruby, who before she met and settled down with Graham was a party girl with a different man every weekend. And sometimes, every night of the weekend. But, she was in a relationship with the _figment of my imagination’s brother. Yes, _she thought, _he was only a figment of my imagination. A dream guy, literally, with my boss’s face. _Could she trust that Belle would keep this to herself and perhaps give her some insight to the dream? “Okay, but you have to promise to keep this between us. I can’t have anyone else knowing about this,” Emma pleaded.

Belle’s forehead furrowed as she agreed. “What’s going on, Emma?” she asked.

Emma leaned toward her over the table. “I dreamt of him,” she whispered.

Belle’s face was blank as she leaned toward Emma. “Dreamt of who?” she whispered back.

“_Him! _Mr. Jones! Killian!” Emma hissed.

“What?” Belle exclaimed.

“Shhhhh,” Emma shushed her, waving frantically for her to keep it down. “Yes, I dreamt that he and I were climbing a beanstalk. When we got to the top, I had a cut on my hand. He doused it with rum, and wrapped it with a scarf.”

“A beanstalk? Rum?” Belle was having trouble containing her giggles. “What was he doing with rum?”

Emma found herself joining Belle in her giggles. “Would you believe that he was dressed as a pirate? Black leather for miles, earring, and guyliner to boot.”

“Oh my word,” her friend exclaimed, trying to bring her laughter under control.

“I know,” Emma gasped, trying to get her breathing to even out. “But, it wasn’t really him. I mean, it was his face and body, but it wasn’t _him._ You know what I mean?”

“I think so,” Belle replied. “You mean that he was different? Not like the man you know?”

“Yes, exactly,” she declared. “In the dream, he was a gentleman. Helpful. He was kind of flirty, forward. Nothing like him for real.”

“Well,” she drawled, “that’s not exactly true. You’ve never spent any time with him outside of work, have you?” Emma shook her head. “Since Liam and I have been dating, we’ve had a couple of dinners with Killian, and I can tell you that outside of work, he’s like an entirely different person.” Belle looked thoughtful for a moment. “He’s funny, charming, very much a gentleman like what you’ve described.” Emma was dumbstruck a second time listening to her friend describe a man that she thought she knew after working with him for so many years. “Anyway,” Belle continued, “it’s quite obvious, to me anyway, that this dream has rattled you. Maybe because of the scar showing up, but given your nerves and reluctance to tell me about the dream,” she leveled an assessing gaze at her, “I’d venture a guess that it has more to do with him than anything.” She was silent for a moment before her lips turned up in a smirk. “Uh, Emma, you might want to close your mouth. You’re starting to attract flies.” She giggled again.

Emma’s mouth snapped shut. “You think you know someone,” she murmured, eyes dropping to the table.

Belle placed her hand over Emma’s and leaned down until she caught her eyes. “Give him a chance. Get to know the man, not just your boss. You never know where that might lead. You deserve happiness and love is a part of all happiness. You have to be open to that.”

Emma snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied. “And now, I think it’s time to eat,” she said, as she saw their server approaching with their meals. As they were set in front of them, the ladies dug in and turned the conversation into a less emotionally fraught direction. By the time they arrived back at the office, the dream and the conversation about it were firmly in the back of her mind. To stay there until such time as she could safely pull it out, investigate it, and compare it to the man she thought she knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Miss Swan.” Killian Jones walked into her office later that afternoon. She had turned in the corrected figures that morning that they had gone over the day before. She hoped he hadn’t found any other problems with her work. “Peter wants to see us to go over the corrected figures from yesterday. We’re meeting him in thirty minutes. Let’s go.”

His gruff, no nonsense demeanor was exactly what she expected from her boss and helped steady her equilibrium that was thrown off by the dream and the lunch with Belle.

“Yes, sir,” she agreed. “Let me just put the finishing touches on this.” She tapped away at her computer. “There.” She turned toward her boss who was already on the way out her door. She hurriedly caught up with him as she stuffed the pertinent papers in her case. “Did they look alright to you? You didn’t see any other problems with them?”

“No, they looked fine,” he replied. “Peter knew that something was up yesterday at lunch. He was my college roommate all three years and probably knows me better than anyone, besides Liam and Granny. We had a good laugh over what had happened. I told him you’d have the corrected figures for me this morning and he wanted to meet you when I pointed you out. He’s sending a car that should be waiting for us downstairs.”

~*~*~

Leaving the building into the late summer brightness, Killian blinked before settling on the Mercedes limo waiting for them at the curb. “Mr. Jones. Miss Swan. I’m Keith, and I’ll be your driver to the Neverland Cruises headquarters. Mr. Pan invites you to enjoy the refreshments he’s provided for the journey.” The man opened the door to the back of the car for them to climb into.

Emma bent down to enter the limo and Killian couldn’t help but notice the way her skirt tightened over her shapely rear. Apparently, Keith couldn’t either. The salacious smirk that worked its way across the man’s face made Killian’s blood boil. He fixed him with a hard stare when he caught his eye as he got in behind her. Keith looked away with a sheepish scowl on his face before shutting the door behind them.

Settling himself on the seat across from Emma, he noticed the fully stocked wet bar next to him. Reluctant to imbibe at this point in the day, he asked Emma if she’d like anything.

“No, thank you, sir,” she answered. “I’d rather have all my faculties about me when we meet with Mr. Pan.”

“I don’t blame you at all. I feel the same way,” he said turning to stare out the window, getting lost in his own thoughts. The way Keith had looked at her had not only made him angry, it also brought to the front of his mind exactly how he, and the rest of the male population, saw her. She was a truly beautiful woman, and apparently completely unaware of that fact. He surreptitiously glanced at her profile as she gazed out the window. He couldn’t help the tightening in his pants as he took in her classic profile and the elegant length of her neck. He adjusted his seat, trying to hide exactly what she did to him. He turned back to the window once he felt more in control of himself and waited to arrive at Neverland Cruises.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Killian,” his friend exclaimed as they walked into his office. “Long time, no see,” he joked, slapping Killian on the shoulder as he shook his hand. “And this must be the lovely Miss Swan.” He bowed low over Emma’s hand as she offered it and brushed his lips over her knuckles. Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise at the gesture and turned toward her boss with a question in her eyes and tension across her brow and shoulders. Killian simply waved his hand in a dismissive gesture before leaning into her.

“That’s how he greets any woman, other than his employees,” he whispered. “Don’t let it bother you. It’s just how he was raised, showing respect for ladies.” She turned back towards their client with a more relaxed countenance, reassured by her boss’s words.

“Thank you, Mr. Pan,” she acknowledged, smiling. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied. “Please, have a seat. May I offer you both some coffee?”

“Coffee would be great,” she agreed, glancing briefly at Killian, who nodded. “Had a bit of a late night last night and then didn’t sleep well.”

“Yes, I imagine so after the fiasco yesterday,” he chuckled. He leaned over to the intercom on his desk. “Cora, would you please bring in some regular coffee for Miss Swan and Mr. Jones. And send Walsh in as well, please.”

“Right away, sir.”

A tall, thin man with a mop of unruly brown hair flopping over his forehead walked into the office just then. “Ah, Walsh,” their client addressed the newcomer in the room. Turning back to his guests, he continued, “This is my assistant, Walsh Ozman. Walsh, my college roommate, Killian Jones of Jones Brothers Advertising, and one of his marketing executives, Emma Swan.”

Emma held back a shudder of revulsion at the lascivious look Walsh was giving her as they shook hands. She glanced at Killian again, taking in the thunderous expression on his face before they all sat around the conference table. Just then, the office door opened with a petite, elegant looking woman coming in with a coffee tray. She laid the coffee out and poured for Emma and Killian before heading back towards the door.

“Thank you, Cora,” he remarked as she left the room. “And now, to business. I assume that the numbers that were at issue yesterday have been corrected?” he asked, settling himself down at the table with the others.

“Yes,” Killian supplied, “Miss Swan got them all straightened out.” Emma reached into her case and brought out the work she had done the night before. Handing the sheet to his assistant, she was aware of the intensity of his gaze and the way his fingers brushed her own, lingering just a little too long to be strictly professional. She shot him a look that had him looking down at the paper before handing it to his boss.

“I think you’ll find everything in order, Mr. Pan,” Emma answered shooting Walsh another death glare.

“Thank you, Miss Swan. These look great,” he commented, perusing the document before him.

Over the next two hours, they poured over the other documents she had prepared. Apparently, the business lunch between the men the day before, didn’t get much business done. She found herself pretty much going over everything with their client that she had gone over with her boss the day before. She looked up and saw that the afternoon was nearly gone.

“All of this looks great, Miss Swan, Killian,” their client repeated. “I’ve no doubt that this campaign will be the beginning of a new era here at Neverland Cruises. Thank you, my friend,” he continued, standing up and holding out his hand to Killian, who shook it. “Once it’s launched, we’ll need to have lunch again. Hopefully a celebratory one.”

“We absolutely will, Peter,” her boss said, the smile on his face genuine as he shook his friend’s hand. Emma was stunned to silence again as she gazed at the gorgeous profile of the friendly, relaxed man beside her. She shook her head to get her reverie out of her head as she held her hand out to him as well. When she then shook Walsh’s hand, she had to fight to keep from rubbing it on her skirt to get the creeps he induced away from her.

Preceding Killian out of the office, she was again aware of Walsh’s unwanted eyes on her as well as the very much wanted hand of her boss on the small of her back. Distracted by the light touch as they made their way out of the building, her shoe got caught on the threshold pitching her forward until her hand caught herself on the metal door frame. Sharp pain cut across the palm as Killian grabbed her upper arm. “Are you alright, Swan?”

Emma hissed as the sting insensified. “I’ll be fine.” She shrugged trying to blow it off.

“You’re bleeding. Let me help you,” he requested. Emma turned shocked eyes upon her boss. Turning toward Keith who was waiting for them, he asked, “Do you have a first aid kit available?”

“Of course, sir. Just a moment.” He ducked back into the limo and emerged with a first aid kit that he handed to Killian. They climbed in the back with Killian sitting next to her this time instead of across from her. She tried to bring her heart rate and breathing under control after they had shot up when she recognized the words from her dream the night before. She concentrated on his ministrations trying to suppress the shiver that his gentle touch generated.

When he was finished, he looked up into her eyes. “There, all better,” he murmured. Emma was speechless. She couldn’t look away from his cerulean gaze and the recognition she saw there. She pulled her hand away and looked away from the earnestness in his eyes. _It can’t be_, she thought to herself. _It was a dream. It was only a dream._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Oh what a week_, she thought, shutting and locking her apartment door behind her. _One more. One more. One more. I can make it one more week. _She tossed her briefcase down on the sofa and marched into the kitchen to pull out the take out menu for her favorite Chinese place down the street before diving into the work she had to do tonight. She was fully immersed into so many numbers that her eyes were starting to cross when the knock came signalling that her dinner had arrived. She briefly looked over at her tv where she caught a glimpse of what looked like the common room in an old timey inn. Settling back down, she got back on her figures and her dinner.

Stretching like a cat, Emma glanced at the time on her laptop. It was nearly eleven, but she wasn’t worried since she’d get to sleep in in the morning. Gathering her piles together, she put everything away in her briefcase, ready for Monday. She got herself ready for bed in record time, and was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

_She gazed around the dimly lit, noisy room, vaguely aware that she was searching for something, or someone rather. She saw people from all walks of life, royal navy men, merchants, sailors, bar maids like herself, planters with their slaves in attendance. She worked her way around the room and the crowd as her low sultry voice caressed the words she was singing. _

_She heard a commotion behind her at the door, and immediately the hairs on the back of her neck sprung to attention. She knew exactly who had just come in the tavern. She couldn’t look at him, lest she draw attention to herself and their forbidden liaison, but she knew that he was looking at her. She continued toward the stage that she was heading to, adding a little more swing to her hips. When she got there, she turned around and immediately spied him. Pirate Captain Killian Jones. Her secret lover. _

_Suddenly, in her mind’s eye, she saw him in another place. Another time maybe? It was definitely him, but he was wearing clothes that looked very odd, yet strangely familiar. The shirt he wore was much more fitted than his normal attire, with no waistcoat. His surroundings were unlike anything she’d ever seen. The walls were white instead of rough hewn wood. He sat behind a desk larger than anything she had ever seen. She shook her head to rid herself of the vision before focusing on the room actually before her. Her eyes settled on him briefly again._

_He was at the bar, surrounded by his men, but his dark blue gaze held her, piercing the gloom of the room straight to her very soul. Over the course of several quick glances, that she was sure wouldn’t attract the wrong kind of attention, she took in his appearance. It had been months since she’d seen him last. His hair was a little on the long side, just right for grabbing, she thought, with a slight flush to her cheeks. He wore her favorite red waistcoat over his billowy black linen shirt with his signature black leather pants and greatcoat over all. She knew her songs so well that she could sing on autopilot, all while her heart and mind soaked in the presence of the man she loved. _

_She had to hold back a shiver under his intense scrutiny. Did he miss me? Is he as desperate for me as I am for him? She tamped down the desire she could feel rising within her, afraid that it might show in her eyes. She dragged them away from him, feeling the flush work its way down her neck to her chest, worried that her mistress might see her reaction to him and take it out of her earnings for the night, or worse, out of her hide. Cora was careful to leave the marks in places that no one would see when she was working, but Emma couldn’t hide them from his eyes when they were together. The bruises from her last beating were gone, so at least she didn’t have to worry about that tonight. It always incensed him when he saw the marks left on her body. It usually worked out well for her though. He was always an attentive lover, but on those occasions, he was exceptionally gentle and slow with her, not wanting to cause her any more pain, leaving her a begging, sobbing mess before he would finally grant her release. He had beseeched her many times over the years to run away with him, but she always refused. She was now less than a year away from the end of her indentured servitude, and if she could convince him to wait just a little while longer, she would be his forever. Looking back toward where he had been, she noticed that he had disappeared at some point in the previous few minutes, as her song and musings came to an end. _

_Making her way into her room when her duties for the night were finished, Emma’s anticipation was at a fever pitch. A large warm hand wrapped around her wrist as she opened the door, dragging her around it and into a pair of strong arms. The giggles that escaped her mouth were abruptly cut off as his lips crashed down onto hers. Turning her into the door and locking it, he caged her in as his tongue sought entrance that she eagerly gave. His hands roamed down her corset clad sides before working their way up to the tie holding it together. Leather covered hips thrust into hers, causing her core to clench as she felt the effect she was already having on him. He swallowed her moan as she felt the first tie of her corset come loose. She buried her hands in his hair as he released her mouth only to gasp, “Gods Emma, how I’ve missed you.” _

_“I’ve missed you too, Killian,” she breathed, holding him close. His hands continued their path down the front of her corset as he buried his face in her cleavage nipping and licking the skin he found there. She pulled his face back up to hers where she claimed his lips once again, as she felt him lift one of her legs up to rest on his hip. She laved him with her kisses as he picked her up and carried her across the room to the bed before gently laying her down on it. His eyes were black with desire as they roamed her still nearly fully clothed form. _

_“You’re beautiful, my love,” he murmured before joining her on the bed. His cutlass made it a little awkward, but it was swiftly removed and laid on the floor within easy reach. Even in the privacy of a bedroom, Captain Killian Jones’ cutlass was never far from him. She reached for him, drawing him down to her so that she could reach the laces on his breeches. “Not yet, my darling,” he groaned as her hand found his straining erection through the leather. “I’ve missed you, and my eyes, lips, and hands are starved for the luscious perfection of your form. I’m going to look my fill before I ravish you properly all night long. Making you come over and over again until you aren’t able to walk and I have to carry you to my ship before we leave this gods forsaken town forever,” he finished before lowering his mouth to hers as his hands resumed the unlacing of her corset._

_“Killian, no,” she protested against his lips, “You know we can’t. Not yet…” her protests died away into an ecstatic moan as his lips worked their way down her neck to nip at her collar before going lower to where he tongued at her exposed nipples._

_“Oh, but we can, my precious one,” he growled before taking a turgid nipple into his mouth._

_“No, you cannot.” _

_A voice came from across the room as the door was kicked in. Killian leapt from the bed, retrieving his cutlass from its scabbard on the floor in one smooth movement. He raised it at the intruders as Cora sashayed into the room followed by two of her goons. _

_Emma stared at her mistress as she hurriedly laced her corset back up. Killian stood in front of her shielding her nudity from the lecherous gazes of Cora’s lackeys that she only knew as Oz and Sheriff. Killian pointed his sword towards the woman who sneered derisively in his direction. _

_“She is mine, pirate,” the woman snapped. “Did you think that you could just waltz in here and take my property?” _

_“Well,” he drawled, “you’re right about that. I am a pirate and a pirate does know how to find and keep his treasure,” he quipped with a smirk, “and she is my treasure,” he continued, his sword never wavering._

_Cora looked bored as she waved a hand in his direction. “Kill him, then bring her to the courtyard.” Her brown eyes sparkled with deranged malice as she gazed gleefully at Emma. “You’ll be sorry that you ever thought you could cross me, girl. I’ll let you two do what you like with her, once she has learned her lesson,” she addressed her men._

_With no advance warning whatsoever, Killian’s stance changed only slightly before his sword hand rose and came down on the neck of Oz, nearly taking his head off, before he could even reach for his own weapon. The surprised look on his companion’s face was nearly comical, but for the blood spurting everywhere. He was similarly dealt with with a flourishing twirl and Killian burying his sword to the hilt in the gut of the Sheriff. Cora stood bewildered, covered in the blood of her attendants, trying to make sense of what just happened. _

_“I think you’ll find, Madame Cora,” Killian gloated, “that Emma no longer belongs to you. If you want to try and get her back, you’ll find her with me aboard the Jolly Roger.” He reached his hand out toward Emma for her to take as she climbed down off the bed. “But be assured, that if you come after her, you’d better have an army.” His eyes blazed with barely suppressed fury. “Because I have my crew and the entire Pirate Republic behind me. And they will gladly take you down.” Drawing Emma into his side, Killian stepped over the dead men as Cora stood sputtering impotently. They fled into the night, never to be seen in Port Royale again. _

Emma stretched and turned away from the sunlight filtering in to her bedroom as awareness trickled in to her sleepy brain. _And another one,_ she thought, disbelieving. _And this one was like some kind of B movie. _She shook her head as she realized that all three of the others in the dream were Peter’s employees._ I wonder where_ _he was then? And why did I see Jones in the office in the middle of all that? And why didn’t I know it was a dream, like last time? _Thinking back to other parts of the dream, she could feel heat unfurling in her core and a blush warming her cheeks and spreading down her neck all the way to the tops of her breasts. The man in her dream this time was passionate, possessive, but protective as well. He made her feel safe, desired, _loved._ _Where_ _is all this coming from? _Thinking back on the past week, she tried to think of any and all interactions with her stoic boss that might hint to some of these _other traits _she was seeing in her dreams. Since her lunch with Belle after the first one, she had made an effort to see behind the facade of her straight laced superior to the man that her friend insisted he was. The only thing she could think of was at the meeting with Mr. Pan. _He was helpful, a gentleman. And he very nearly quoted what he said in the first dream. But it was only a dream, _she thought, shaking her head. _Well, at least I won’t see him again until Monday. That should be enough time to get this dream out of my head so we can get this campaign off the ground. _

Throwing the covers off, she got up to go for a run before meeting the girls for lunch and a shopping expedition for the launch party Friday night. Something cute and sexy, since it was an after hours party at the Neverland headquarters and there’d be an open bar and dancing. And, to be honest, if there was any chance of really getting underneath his stern exterior, Friday night would be the night to do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, Emma,” Ruby singsonged. “Look at this one! It’s perfect for you!”

“Uh…” she began, “I think you mean perfect for _you.” _She lifted an eyebrow as she took in the barely there bright red halter dress with cutouts along the sides. “That is much more your style, Ruby.”

Ruby held it out in front of her as a sly smirk worked its way across her face. “Yep, you’re right, Emma. Graham won’t know what hit him.” She draped it over her arm and headed toward the dressing room.

Emma shook her head with a bemused grin on her face as she continued browsing through the rack of dresses before her. A familiar voice suddenly sounded behind her causing her to jump slightly before turning to take in the familiar face of her boss.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted them. “What are we shopping for today?”

He was dressed casually today in a pair of chinos that fit him very well and a short sleeved polo. He still looked good enough to eat though with his slightly mussed hair and sparkling blue eyes.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Jones,” Mary Margaret replied. “We’re shopping for the launch party Friday night. With the open bar and dancing, we thought it was a good reason for a new party dress. What are you doing here?”

Killian scratched behind his ear, looking sheepish. “I see,” he answered her. “I’m, uh… shopping for Granny. It’s her birthday next week. I thought a new purse or some jewelry…” he trailed away, looking back toward where he had come from.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Mary Margaret cooed. “I’m sure she’ll love whatever you give her.”

Emma sent a small smile his way at how bashful he seemed to be. She couldn’t help but agree with Mary Margaret about how sweet it was for him to be buying a birthday gift for the woman who raised him. His discomfort at revealing what he was doing was evident in his fidgeting and ear scratch. Emma took the time to take in the little gestures and the way he stood as she added them to the growing catalog of mannerisms and characteristics that she was starting to see in her normally serious boss. Seeing him outside their office, seemed to be revealing more of the real man he was as opposed to Vulcan that she was used to.

Just then, Ruby returned, drawing all their attention. “You’re right, Emma,” she began, “Oh, Mr. Jones! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Miss Lucas,” he said, “I was just shopping for Granny’s birthday next week. I’ll leave you ladies to it and see you on Monday.” He turned away dipping his head slightly in farewell and headed toward the accessories department.

“You were right, Emma,” Ruby picked up again right where she had left off. “This dress is much more my style than yours. Now, let’s find you something.”

Emma suddenly spied a hot pink number that had her blushing just looking at it on the hanger. She normally didn’t go for skin tight, short dresses, but she really liked the color and fabric of this one.

“Oooooo, yes, Emma,” Ruby commented, grabbing it off the rack and shoving it at her friend. “Go, try it on.” Emma rolled her eyes with a smirk as she accepted the dress and made her way to the dressing room. “And come out and let us see it when you get it on,” Ruby called after her.

Once in the dressing room, Emma slipped into the dress. It hugged her like a second skin. Plunging neckline with just enough cleavage to be tantalizing and a hemline that came to mid thigh, it accentuated all her assets in a very pleasing way. Twisting this way and that to feel how well it moved with her, she was impressed with what she found. Making her way out of the dressing room, she was startled to find Walsh standing there, apparently waiting for her. His eyes lit up and raked across her form as a salacious grin split his face.

“Why Miss Swan, fancy seeing you here,” he purred as he undressed her with his eyes and sauntered a step or two closer.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Ozman?” she bit out, very much aware that her friends were at the other end of the department and that the only way to stay out of touching distance was to go back into the dressing room. She refused to retreat before the creep though and held her ground.

“Why, I’m waiting for you, of course,” he justified himself and came even closer. “I saw you, and when I heard what your friend said, I just had to see it for myself. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

Emma scoffed. He was now close enough that she could smell the cologne he wore mixed with sweat from being out in the late summer sun. It was enough to make her stomach roll.

“And now that I have, I can’t help but think how much lovelier it will be on my floor,” he continued, leaning in close. He hadn’t touched her yet, so that was something at least, but if he did, he was about to get an up close and personal introduction to her knee first and then her fist. Her entire body was tight, ready to spring when he finally drew back. “What do you think about that? Hmmm?”

“I think that the only way you’ll see this dress on your floor is if you buy it and put it there yourself,” she retorted.

“Oh, come on, Emma,” he laughed, “Don’t be like that. I saw how you looked at me at the meeting last week. Don’t pretend that you don’t want me as much as I want you.”

“I never gave you permission to call me Emma, and I don’t have to pretend. I definitely do _not _want you,” she commented wryly. “Now if you will excuse me, my friends want to see the dress.” She waited as he straightened up again, his eyes gleaming with lust that made her skin crawl.

“Well, I look forward to seeing you in that dress Friday night. Make sure and save me a dance.” He winked at her before turning away only to be confronted with Killian Jones standing right behind him. Emma had been so focused on Walsh, she hadn’t noticed his approach either. HIs anger was evident in his blazing eyes and the muscle tic in his clenched jaw. Walsh’s jaw dropped when he was confronted by his boss’s friend as he stammered out an apology. “Sorry there Jones. Didn’t see you standing there. Was just telling Miss Swan here how good she looked in her dress.” She saw a flash of appreciation in Killian’s eyes as they flicked toward her taking in her appearance before settling back on the groveling man in front of him even harder than they were before.

“That’s not what I heard, Ozman,” he said through his clenched teeth. “What I heard, from you and from her response, constitutes sexual harassment. And that is something that is not tolerated against my employees. So if you don’t want Peter to hear about your behavior this afternoon, then I suggest that you leave Miss Swan alone and get the idea of a dance with her Friday night out of your head. Because, you can be sure, that I _will_ be paying attention.”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled, looking down and hurrying away.

Killian’s gaze softened as he looked back toward Emma after making sure that Walsh really left. “Are you alright, Miss Swan?” he asked, reaching out toward her.

“I’m fine, sir,” she replied, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you. He really wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

“If he bothers you Friday night, you let me know. He’ll be out of a job so fast it’ll make his monkey head spin.”

Emma laughed. “He does have a bit of a monkey face, doesn’t he?” Killian joined her in her amusement, his face lit up as he chuckled. Ruby and Mary Margaret finally joined them and swooned over Emma’s outfit.

“This is perfect, Emma,” Ruby insisted. “Now all we need is some four inch heels and earrings and you’ll be all set.”

“She’s right, Emma,” Mary Margaret agreed, “You look great. What do you think, Mr. Jones?” she asked the man, as he looked down and scratched behind his ear.

He avoided taking in her body wrapped in the sinfully tight dress before finally looking up and catching Emma’s gaze with his own. “You’re beautiful, Swan.”

Emma was having trouble breathing and her heart was about to beat out of her chest. The flush from her cheeks at his words worked it’s way down her neck to her chest. His cerulean gaze pierced her own as she struggled to respond to his declaration. “Tha- thank you… sir.” Dragging her eyes from him and turning to her friends, she asked, “Do you really think so?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely,” they said in unison.

Taking a deep breath to get her breathing under control, Emma replied, “Okay, it looks like I found a dress then. Now for accessories, shoes, and we still have to find M’s a dress.” Emma found herself more in control of herself and her racing heartbeat when she focused on her friends instead of her boss. “Enjoy your shopping, sir. And good luck. We’ll see you on Monday.” She couldn’t look directly at him as she waved and steered her friends back towards the party dresses.

“Good luck to you too, ladies. See you Monday,” he replied, before heading away from them. Emma watched him out of the corner of her eye as he walked away from them. How was she supposed to handle him _now? _she thought._ There was the gentleman again, as well as being protective. Just like the dream. Just. Like. The. Dream._


	3. Ch. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to profdanglaisstuff for her help in crafting the dialog between Lord Walsh and Killian and calculating how long it would take for Killian to catch up to him. Thank you darlin!!!
> 
> TW evidence of physical abuse, sexual assault, attempted rape, and kidnapping.

The office had been a hive of activity all week. Even more so than usual. With the launch party Friday night, the entire staff had been given Friday off and were expected at the Neverland headquarters to watch the first advertisement on network television, then party the night away. Emma figured that the brothers thought if everything wasn’t ready Thursday at quitting time, it was too late to fix it. She certainly wouldn’t argue with the results of that logic.

Everything was ready. By Thursday afternoon, her team had been so prepared that Emma found herself actually leaving at quitting time with nothing else to do - work wise - that evening. Knowing that she’d never be able to go to sleep early after all the late nights lately, both in and out of the office, she decided to get caught up on laundry, house cleaning, and her checkbook. Hoping they would be enough to send her into dreamland easily. _Uh, not dreamland please,_ she thought, remembering the disconcerting dreams of the last couple of weeks. _Just sleep. Sleep will be just fine, thank you very much. No dreams necessary. _Going into her bedroom, she got out of her professional attire and put on a pair of yoga leggings and tank top, much more comfortable for housework. Putting in her delivery order online, she pulled up Netflix and set it playing while she gathered her laundry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are we in another dream, Mr. Jones?” she asked, looking around her at the field filled with the most beautiful roses she had ever seen. Pale pink petals glowed in the sunlight of the secluded meadow. Her eyes finally landed on Killian, very smartly dressed in a naval captain’s uniform. He sat across from her reclined on his elbow. His hair was quite a bit longer than normal and caught at the nape of the neck in a small ponytail, straight out of the 18th century. His bicorne hat, signifying his officers rank, lay on the ground beside him. He picked one of the beautiful roses and twirled it between his fingers.

“I would imagine so, Swan,” he replied, “Seeing as how we are both dressed in ahh… quite _unfamiliar _garb, I would have to say, we must be in another dream.” He reached out and tucked the rose behind her ear. “A lovely flower for a lovely lass.”

“It’s a good thing it’s not a lily,” she murmured, with a shy smile, “I’m allergic to them. Being this close to one would have me sneezing for hours.”

His soft gaze remained on her as his fingers lightly traced the curve of her cheek. “Then it’s a very good thing it’s not a lily,” he responded. “You are so beautiful, my beloved.” His eyes perused her form as she looked down, blushing, not able to look at the clear love and desire in his eyes. She took in her own appearance as she struggled to maintain some kind of equilibrium after his use of the possessive pronoun. She wore a snow white gown with sleeves that looked like the wings of a swan. The embroidery down the front of the bodice, sleeves, and where the skirt flared out, looked to be done by hand and was exquisite.

“I’m dressed like a princess,” she chuckled. “And I wonder what happened to your pirate garb?” she asked, looking back up at him again.

The handsome man across from her shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I’m masquerading as a naval man to sweep you off your feet.” He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. “Since a princess would never willingly go with a pirate.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she purred, scooting ever closer to him. “I might be persuaded to run away with a dashing pirate captain or noble officer like yourself.”

“You think I’m dashing, Swan?” he asked, eyebrows raised to his hairline, a look of surprise completely taking over his features, as he scratched behind his ear.

“Mmhmmm,” she hummed, so close to him now that she lay on her side facing him, placing her hand over his heart. Even through the thick jacket, waistcoat, and shirt beneath, she could feel his racing heartbeat. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. That she was being this forward with him. But ever since the first dream and her lunch with Belle, she’d been paying particular attention to anything and everything he said or did that lined up with Belle’s assertions rather than her perceptions of her boss. And the more she saw in her dreams, that then showed up in real life, the more she found herself falling for him. And now, in the safety of the dream world, she was ready to admit to herself that she was really attracted to him. The desire she felt for him to touch, to taste, to _take_ flared up in her, stealing her breath. She gazed up into his blazing blue eyes that looked like they wanted to devour her.

“Well, for what it’s worth Swan, I think you’re breathtaking and I’d really like to kiss you right now.” Her hand remained on his chest as she felt a heavy warmth settle on her waist, drawing her closer.

“Then what are you waiting for, Captain?” she asked, on a whisper of a breath, lips millimeters from his.

His eyes widened slightly with his gasp. “Nothing, my love,” he replied.

~*~*~

Reading the desire in her eyes, he slowly lowered his lips to hers in a sensual dance that left him reeling. He could feel the conflicting thoughts running through his head as his tongue requested entrance and tangled with hers. She moaned at the intrusion as his hands roamed the bodice of her gown. One reached around and pulled her even closer to him while the other rose and caressed her face. He couldn’t believe his Swan, the woman he loved, was in his arms.

A thought tickled the edge of his consciousness, as he lost himself in her kiss. The memory that she was his employee and that he couldn’t be caught in such a compromising position with her. But, this was a dream. He knew it was a dream and he couldn’t get caught in his dreams. The dreams from the beanstalk and in Port Royale with Peter’s employees as the supporting cast danced across the front of his mind. Holding her in his arms now, pushing her back until she rested among the tall grass and flowers, kissing and caressing her form, desperately wanting to make love to her, she was the woman he had come to know through the dreams as well as the siren that had haunted him for years. Here he was, Killian Jones, Senior Vice-President of Marketing at Jones Brothers Advertising that he co-founded with his brother and he was in love with Emma Swan, one of his Senior Executives of Marketing. That revelation was nearly enough to make him pull back and put a halt to the proceedings. Nearly. But it was the dream that was coming to the fore now.

She was the princess that he’d been in love with for as long as he could remember. Emma bringing him back to the castle with her after finding him starving on the street after being abandoned by his father, being taken in by Granny, the castle cook, being raised in the castle side by side with the princess. And now that he had been appointed Captain of the kingdom’s flagship, he could seek her hand from his sovereign, her uncle, the king. Killian broke the kiss, hovering over her as she chased his lips, positioning him in the cradle of her thighs, trying to pull him back to her.

“No, dearest,” he panted. “Not here. Not now. It would be exceedingly bad form to take you here on the hard ground. No matter how much I want to,” he asserted, pressing his hips into hers so she could feel exactly what she did to him, “no matter how beautiful the meadow is. For our first time together, you will have a soft bed and candlelight bathing your pale skin in its glow, and my ring on your finger will be put to shame by your beauty.” He gently caressed her face, looking at her with an intensity that revealed everything in his heart. “For now, we must return to the castle. Now that I am a captain, I am worthy to present my suite to your uncle, the king, for your hand.”

“It’s not your captaincy that makes you worthy, Killian,” Emma declared, “but the goodness of your heart. You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ll consider.”

The love and trust in her eyes took his breath away. How he had been blessed to be chosen by this magnificent woman, he’d never know.

“Uncle Arthur will see this and grant your petition.” Emma brought his lips back to hers again.

He felt her quiver with desire as she took charge of the kiss this time. He settled himself atop her, his hands finding their way into her golden locks as she explored him as eagerly and as thoroughly as he had explored her. When oxygen became necessary, they broke apart panting, foreheads touching.

“I’ll let you get back,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath, “I’ll follow in a few hours. Wait for me at the bench in the garden. I’ll meet you there at sunset, after I speak with your uncle.” Rising to his feet, he held out his hand, ever the gentleman, and raised her to stand beside him.

She glanced up at him, coyly, through her eyelashes. “I’ll be waiting,” she murmured, starting to pull away from him. “Don’t be late.”

He held her hand as she pulled away, motionless, until he could no longer reach her. He watched as she neared the edge of the meadow. Just before disappearing into the tree line, she turned to him with nothing but longing in her eyes to match his own. _Soon,_ he thought. _Soon we’ll be together… my love._

_~_*~*~

Emma arrived in the throne room to see her uncle and aunt, her guardians since she’d been orphaned as a child, on their thrones with a vaguely familiar man standing before them below the dias. All three turned toward her, with her uncle’s and the other man’s eyes lighting up at her appearance. Her aunt Gwen was more subdued as she took in the somewhat disheveled appearance of her beloved niece. Her uncle, King Arthur, beckoned her forward. “Ah, Emma,” he proclaimed, “This is my niece Princess Emma, my only heir, since the queen and I were unable to have children of our own. Emma, this is Lord Walsh from the Land of Oz. He will be staying with us for a fortnight negotiating a kingdom alliance.”

“Welcome, Lord Walsh,” Emma murmured, dropping into a deep curtsey. “I hope your stay is a pleasant one and that the negotiations are successful.”

The gleam in the man’s eye was somewhat disconcerting, but she could detect no deceit or ill will in his countenance. “I’m sure they will be, Princess Emma.”

Turning back toward her aunt and uncle, she addressed them in a formal manner. “If I may have a word with you both, in private, Uncle.”

“Of course, Emma,” Arthur replied. “Guards, show Lord Walsh to his apartments where he may refresh himself before dinner.”

The guards escorted Walsh to the door of the throne room and departed before she again turned to her aunt and uncle. “Uncle. My king. I come to you today to ask for a boon,” she began, curtseying low again.

“What is it, Emma?” her uncle asked, rising from his seat.

Emma’s heart was suddenly racing in her chest and her palms were moist. “The blessing I would seek is for you to hear and consider a request for my hand.” Remaining where she was, she looked up toward her aunt and uncle to gauge their reaction to her request.

Surprise registered on both their faces. “And who will be presenting this suite, my dear?” Her aunt had descended the dias and stood before her with her hand outstretched to bring Emma back to her feet.

“Captain Killian Jones, Aunt Gwen.” Emma looked at the face of her aunt, as the side of her lips rose into a smirk.

“I had a feeling we might be hearing from him before long,” she began, looking toward her husband. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed the way his regard for you has changed over the years. When he received his captaincy, he could hardly keep his eyes off you.” Emma looked down, blushing.

“I love him, Aunt Gwen,” she asserted. “And I only ask that you agree to hear him and give him due consideration. I’m sure that when you do, you’ll see his many fine qualities that make him the only one for me.”

“Of course, we will hear and consider him, Emma,” her uncle replied, joining them at the bottom of the stairs.

“Thank you, Uncle. That’s all I ask.” She grasped both their hands in hers. Feeling the love she felt for them sweep over her, tears filled her eyes. “He will be here shortly to seek an audience with your majesty.” She curtseyed again, before leaving the throne room and making her way to the gardens to wait for her beloved.

~*~*~

Emma sat on a stone bench in the garden, watching the slowly sinking sun and thinking that sunset would never get there. She couldn’t wait to see Killian again and to hear the outcome of his petition. Her heart thundered in her chest as she continued to eye the singularly uncooperative sun that was keeping her from the man she loved. So caught up was she in the beauty of the garden and the approaching sunset, that she didn’t notice that she was no longer alone.

“Princess Emma,” Lord Walsh greeted.

Gasping at the unwanted intrusion into her solitude, Emma stood to face her unwelcome visitor. Remembering herself, and that as much as she wanted to be alone, he was a guest, she curtseyed and addressed him. “Lord Walsh, you startled me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Princess.” His steps were slow and deliberate as he continued making his way toward her. As he got closer, she began to feel uneasy in the Lord’s presence. Something about him was off. The gleam in his eye from earlier was still there, but there was a hard edge to it now that unnerved her. His smile was now more of a leer as he raked his eyes over her. It was then that she noticed blood on his hand and arm.

“Are you hurt, Lord Walsh?” she asked, feigning concern for him, as she felt her unease continue to rise. She didn’t see any immediate wound that could be responsible for the blood, but she had a feeling that she needed to engage him in order to maintain her own safety.

“Oh, no, Princess,” he laughed, lowly. “I’m not hurt. Your guard, on the other hand…” he trailed away as the leer turned into a thoroughly depraved manic grin. She suddenly felt his iron grip on her upper arm as he yanked her to him. How he had gotten to her side so quickly she would never know.

She struggled to get away from him as he hauled her against the planes of his chest and crushed her lips with his own. Emma wanted to vomit. This was everything Killian’s kiss was not. It was violent where Killian’s was gentle. It was a demand where Killian’s was a request. It was a violation where Killian’s was reverence. It was a taking of something where Killian’s was giving. She felt her attacker’s tongue force its way into her mouth. She loosened her jaw just enough for him to push in before she clamped down on it with all her might. She tasted the coppery notes of his blood as he wrenched himself away from her with his hand to his mouth as blood poured out from in between his fingers.

“You bitch,” he screamed. “You bit me!” Before she could even respond, or take advantage of his momentary distraction to get away from him, he started dragging her from the garden. “You are coming with me,” he growled. “Once we are on my ship, King Arthur will have no choice but to agree to my kingdom’s demands and give you to me in marriage, if he ever wants to see his beloved niece and heir again.”

~*~*~

Standing outside the throne room, Killian could feel the sweat trickle down from the nape of his neck underneath his collar that was trying its best to choke him. Rubbing his damp palms on his pants, he waited for the guard who announced him to return and allow him entrance. The doors to the throne room opened then and Killian strode forward to stand before Emma’s aunt and uncle. His heart was thundering in his chest as he approached the king and queen. Arriving at the foot of the dias, he removed his hat and kneeled before his sovereigns.

“Rise, Captain.” He raised his eyes and head to see the queen smiling gently at him, while the glee in the eyes of the king made his heart rate gallop even more. Smiling back, he rose to his feet.

“Your Majesties,” he began, “I come before you today, seeking the hand of your niece, Princess Emma, in marriage.” He took a deep breath, trying to still his racing heartbeat. “As you well know, Emma is an extraordinary woman. As we’ve grown up together, she has been my savior, my friend, and now my love. As I’ve now been appointed Captain of your Majesty’s flagship, I have the means to provide for her and any children we are blessed with as well as the status to ask for her hand in the first place. Please be assured,” he pleaded, looking into the king’s and queen’s eyes, “that your niece will never want for anything within my power to give her. And that I will love her with everything that is in me to the end of our days.” His heart continued to thunder in his ears as he searched the faces of King Arthur and Queen Guinivere, hoping beyond hope to see a favorable outcome to his petition.

Arthur’s smile had faded somewhat as Killian continued to speak. And when he was finished, he began to squirm under the king’s intense scrutiny. Looking down, he completely missed the knowing glances between the husband and wife before him. The silence in the throne room lengthened. When Killian finally brought himself to look again at his king and queen, they both broke into wide smiles.

“Of course, Captain Jones,” the king laughed, “We have watched you grow up with our beloved niece and we have watched you become the fine man that you are today. We know that there is no one in our kingdom who will love and cherish Emma the way she deserves. The way you will. It is our joy to grant your request to marry Princess Emma.”

Killian’s eyes lit up at the king’s words. “Thank you, your Majesty,” he replied, kneeling before them again. “I’ll seek out the princess and inform her of your blessing on our betrothal.”

At that moment, a scream pierced the throne room. The king and queen rose to their feet in alarm as Killian drew his sword. “Emma,” he shouted, turning from them and dashing from the room. Hurrying to the gardens, he was brought up short at the sight of Emma’s guard lying in a pool of his own blood. The short dagger on the ground next to him had the emblem of the Kingdom of Oz. Killian felt his blood drain from his face as he turned to the king and queen, who had just arrived. “Who is here from Oz?” he demanded.

“Lord Walsh,” the queen panted. “He’s here to negotiate an alliance between the kingdoms.”

“How dare he!?” the king thundered.

Killian wasted no more time, racing toward where he knew Emma should be waiting for him and their happy news. Many times they had sat on the stone bench in the gardens watching the sun set together before he was expected in the kitchen and she would have to prepare herself for the formal meal. Coming around the bend on the garden path, the bench where he expected to see her was empty.

“Lord Walsh must have taken her. I’ll go to the docks, try to head them off if he’s trying to leave Camelot with her. A thorough search should be done here at the castle. I’ll send word to you if I find her at the docks. And Lord Walsh will wish he never stepped foot in Camelot,” he promised, darkly.

“Godspeed, Killian,” the king murmured, placing his hand on Killian’s shoulder. Turning toward the guards that were right behind him, he shouted, “Lock down the castle! No one but Captain Jones in or out! Make a search of every room, every pantry, every nook and cranny. The princess has been kidnapped!”

Killian ran for the docks all the while praying to any god that would listen that he wasn’t too late. As he reached the quay, he could see in the distance the masts of a galley flying the Oz standard. With a scream of frustration, he turned looking for anyone who might give him the information he needed. Seeing the dockmaster, he hurried over. “Have you seen the princess?” he asked, breathlessly.

“Aye, sir,” he replied. “She was accompanied by some tall bloke, I didn’t recognize.”

“How did she look? Was she alright? Did she seem to be in any distress?” he pressed the man.

“No, sir,” he answered. They boarded that ship, the Green Wizard, and immediately cast off,” he continued, pointing at the galley in the distance.

“Thank you. You’ve been most helpful.” He turned and raced back toward the castle.

~*~*~

Killian burst into the throne room with enough force that the doors nearly came off their hinges a short time later. “He’s taken her,” he declared. “I spoke with the dockmaster and he saw her board the Oz ship with who could only be Lord Walsh. I request permission to pursue them immediately on my ship and bring our princess home.”

“Permission denied, Captain,” the king intoned. Killian stood before him, flabbergasted. “Believe me Killian, I understand and agree with your desire to bring Emma home.” Arthur raised his hand to Killian in a gesture of patience. “But we now find ourselves in a most delicate situation. Camelot was in the middle of negotiations with Oz to form a kingdom alliance. With this kidnapping, Oz may think they can force my hand. I highly doubt that any harm will come to Emma, but it would behoove us to hear what they hope to accomplish with this rash action. Information is power, Captain. And it’s a power that I am not willing to leave on the table.”

Killian stood before his king speechless. He couldn’t believe the cowardly words coming from the man that he so admired and that Emma loved as a father. His emotions were written all over his face as King Arthur spoke again. “Don’t worry, Killian. We will bring her home. We just have to do it in the way that is most advantageous to Camelot.” Killian’s face grew thunderous. Arthur again spoke, but with an edge that was not present before. “Don’t you dare think about it, Captain Jones.” The use of his title did not go unnoticed by Killian. “If you go after her yourself, you will be in direct disobedience to your king. You will be guilty of treason and I will have no choice but to chase you instead of Lord Walsh.”

Killian couldn’t speak. If he did, the fury he felt would be unleashed and would devastate everything in its path. Before he could say something he regretted, he gave a sharp nod to the queen, spun on his heel, and stormed out of the throne room. Giving no thought to the king’s ultimatum, Captain Killian Jones, pirate, reached his ship and started shouting orders to his crew to make ready to launch.

Night had fallen by the time Killian could discern the masts of the Oz galley under the full moon. Shouting orders to his men to prepare the cannons, Killian kept the ship, renamed the Jolly Roger once they were out to sea, on a steady course toward the much slower galley. Killian was gratified that only two men had left the ship when he told his crew what had happened to the princess, what he was planning on doing about it, and the consequences of that action. That loyalty to himself and their princess would serve the men well if it came to fighting.

Focusing on the ship in front of him, he ordered his men to fire a warning shot toward it. With the deafening sound of the cannons going off, he could see the crew of the enemy ship scurrying like ants across the deck. Unfortunately for them, a galley had few defensive weapons. And they all relied on the enemy ship being in very close range. Coming up as he was from behind them, they were like sitting ducks. As he closed the distance between them, he ordered the crew to prepare to board. “Anyone who lays down their arms is to be spared and invited to join our crew,” he shouted at his men. “Lord Walsh is mine.” The whistle of arrows began to be heard as he drew the Jolly alongside the other ship. Grappling hooks and the shouts of his men were the answer the enemy sailors received. Killian grabbed the mainstay, wrapped it around his forearm and launched himself across to The Green Wizard.

Sounds of battle surrounded him as he landed on the main deck. Killian was immediately met with two swords that he parried with ease. His riposte disarmed the first and his lunge that ended with his sword buried in his opponent’s gut frightened the second enough that he dropped his sword at his feet. “Where is the Lord Walsh and Princess Emma?” Killian asked as he withdrew his sword and the dead man crumpled at his feet.

“L- Lord Walsh and the princess are below in the first mate’s cabin,” the man stammered, wide-eyed at his dead companion.

Killian gave the man a sharp nod before assuring him of his safety as long as he left his sword where it was. Turning away, he hurried toward the lower deck of the ship. Not before meeting and dispatching the captain who had already retired for the night. Bursting into the first mate’s quarters he found Lord Walsh sprawled over Emma on the narrow bed with one hand over her mouth, the other holding both her wrists over her head, and the skirt of the shift she wore rucked up to her waist. His naked hips and legs caged her in as she made every effort to buck him off of her. Wide, terrified eyes belonging to the woman he loved turned to him as Walsh was startled just enough for Emma to free one of her wrists and smack him hard enough that he rolled from the bed onto the floor.

Killian saw red as his gaze swept over Emma scrambling to sit up and make herself as small as she could. He could see bruises on both her arms as well as a blossoming mark on her right cheek. Walsh grabbed his sword from where it lay near the bed and rose to his feet with a sneer on his face. Apparently unashamed of his nudity, Walsh gloated, “She’s mine now, _Captain. _Captain Lyon married us shortly after we put to sea.”

Before he could even think, Killian lunged toward his opponent with a high outside attack that Lord Walsh didn’t even see coming. The sword met soft flesh in between his ribs as it sank in all the way to the hilt and passed out the other side. The gravely wounded _supposed_ groom collapsed forward onto Killian’s arm with his head almost resting on his shoulder. Killian patted the vile man on the back near where his sword protruded as he whispered in his ear. “I do not believe you. She chooses who to give herself to, and I know that she did not choose you. For your arrogance in thinking that you could take her, you will pay with your life.” As he finished his sentencing speech, Killian could hear the tell tale gurgle of the Lord’s dying breaths as he drowned in his own blood. Withdrawing his sword and tossing the dead man aside, Killian quickly joined Emma as she climbed down off of the bed. “Are you all right, darling?” Killian asked, drawing her into his embrace, concern furrowing his brow. “Did he…? Were you…?”

Emma leaned into him as she shook her head. “No, Killian,” she assured him. “He was lying. I’d never…” She shook her head again, burrowing further into his chest. “He didn’t have enough time. I think the sounds of the battle…” she trailed away as her eyes landed on her kidnapper.

“You’re safe now, my love,” he crooned, as he led her out of the room. The sounds of fighting were gone as they climbed the stairs emerging onto the main deck. Killian saw about ten men in varying degrees of health lined up along the gunwale of the ship.

“I am Captain Killian Jones of the Jolly Roger,” he shouted, “and I’m assuming that because you are still alive, you laid down your arms before me and my men. As such, your lives will be spared. Wounded will be seen and treated by our doctor. Those who wish, may join my crew. Otherwise, you’ll be put off in the nearest port to find your own way.” Concluding his speech, he escorted Emma across to his ship. After seeing her safely to the captains quarters, he came back up. “Mr. Starkey, report.”

His lieutenant snapped a sharp salute to the captain before he began. “All of the men have chosen to join our crew, Captain. The youngest is only 11 and was the cabin boy to the captain. He surrendered as soon as he came up. Only 2 were wounded, one with a pretty ugly gash along his side, and the other nearly lost most of his right arm. When he surrendered, I got him to Whale immediately. He’s not sure whether he’ll make it or not, though.”

Killian nodded before giving his orders. “Emma is safe in my quarters and I’ll be staying with her tonight. After her ordeal with Lord Walsh, I’ll be attending to her comforts myself.” He hung his head in sorrow. “You will be in command until dawn of the second day. Set our course for Misthaven so that we may send word to Camelot that the princess is safe.” He raised his eyes to the other ship. The memory of how he found his love made the fury in his eyes burn that much brighter. “Burn it, Mr. Starkey,” he growled.

“With pleasure, sir.”

~*~*~

Emma waited on the bed for her love as Killian made his way into the captains quarters. He was still dressed in his Camelot Captain’s uniform, but she couldn’t forget how he had introduced himself to the captured crew members. _Captain Killian Jones of the Jolly Roger._ _What did he mean? _As he came toward her, his eyes, normally a clear blue that she could easily read, were downcast and he seemed, almost, ashamed. His shoulders, once straight and proud in his uniform, were hunched. As if he was drawing in on himself, not wanting to be seen. Emma reached her hand out toward him. “Killian,” she whispered. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“You were the one kidnapped and assaulted,” he answered, his tortured visage finally lifting to meet hers, “And you’re asking _me_ what’s wrong?” An incredulous chuckle made it past his lips as he removed his jacket and vest, hanging them by the door. Moving toward her on the bed, he began loosening his cravat.

Emma shrugged. “Well, you looked like you could use a friend.” Her green eyes bored into him, as he made his way over to her. He took her outstretched hand in his own as he approached the bed.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he apologized, looking for all the world as if he had lost his best friend. “I’m so sorry.” He sat down next to her, never letting go of her hand, his eyes focused on the floor.

“What are you sorry for, Killian?” she asked. She lowered her own head until her face was below his and she could see the pain in his eyes. His eyes met hers and a small smile broke over his face.

“I just can’t resist you, can I love?” His face followed hers until they were both sitting upright. His eyes were still full of anguish as he searched her face. “By chasing Lord Walsh, I have committed high treason against King Arthur,” he choked out.

“What?” she asked, startled, but still not releasing his hand from her own.

“Aye, when I confirmed that you had been kidnapped,” he began, “I returned to the king and requested permission to pursue.” He looked down again. “That request was denied.”

Emma’s confusion was written all over her face as mouth fell open. “Why?”

Looking up again and searching her gaze, he continued, “Your _Uncle_,” he spat, “was of the persuasion that we needed to see what Oz’s demands were before going after you. That somehow, waiting would give us a power advantage that he refused to forfeit for your safety. And I just couldn’t abide that,” he spoke softly, with a gentle smile as his eyes filled with tears, his other hand coming up to caress her cheek. “He warned me that if I went after you on my own, that he would have no choice but to come after me.” His blue eyes locked onto hers. “I had no choice, Emma.” He paused. “My love.” She could plainly see his heart in his eyes as he cradled her cheek in the palm of his hand. “My heart would not allow me to sit idly by while you were being held by that… that… _creature_.” The word, dripping with disgust, bounded off his tongue like an expletive towards his foe who could not even be declared a man.

“Now you have a choice to make, my love,” he continued after a moment to collect himself and rein the rage she could feel simmering beneath his surface. “I, and the men who followed me, are now outlaws in your kingdom and will be in Oz as well once word reaches them of what occured this night. Do not think for a moment that I regret a single thing I’ve done today. I’m so thankful that I reached you in time. If I had been too late… If he had…” He shook his head in dismay. “Mr. Starkey, my lieutenant, is making a course for Misthaven so that we may send word to your aunt and uncle that you are safe. The question is, will you be delivering the missive in person?” His blue eyes again met hers.

Emma read the fear, shame, sorrow, and the tiniest sliver of hope in his eyes. Her own mind was awash with dismay and betrayal. One thought, one feeling, rose above all. “No, Killian,” she declared, vehemently. “I will not. I love you. I will stay with you.” Her lot was cast. Her way was chosen. She would never willingly leave his side. Leaning forward, she pulled his head down until his lips met hers in a chaste yet passionate kiss. Moments later, Killian pulled away. The surprise mixed with joy on his face nearly made her laugh, but instead she beamed at him, pulling him in close again.

“Are you sure, Emma,” he whispered, placing gentle kisses along her jawline and nuzzling into the skin of her neck. “We’ll go anywhere you want to go, but we will be hunted for the rest of our lives and you’ll never see your aunt and uncle again.”

“I’m sure, Killian,” she said, leaning her head back to give him better access. She was on fire and he had barely begun touching her. She sighed as he pressed soft kisses to her skin. “I belong with you. Forever.”

Grasping his hair, she pulled his head back until he looked her in the eyes. His eyes were clouded with desire as she dove in, capturing his lips with her own. Scrambling into his lap, without ever releasing his lips, she took possession of the kiss. Tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue, he granted her entrance with a groan and tangled his tongue with hers, all the while pulling her ever closer to him, until there was no space to be found between their bodies. Pulling back just slightly, Emma confessed, “I want you to make love to me. Make me yours, Killian,” she begged. A strangled moan came from the back of his throat as she dove back in, swallowing the sound.

Killian needed no other encouragement. Turning toward the bed, he gently lowered her to the mattress. “With pleasure, my beloved Swan,” he murmured against her lips. “With. Pleasure.” He placed his finger on her lips. “In just a moment.” He hurried away from her to the cabinet on the other side of the cabin. Coming back with a small pouch in his hands, he opened it up and poured the contents into the palm of his hand. “When I received my Captaincy, I had this commissioned by the palace jeweler, knowing that it was only a matter of time before I asked for your hand in marriage. The stones are to represent our eye colors, joined together in the beauty of matrimony. While a marriage blessed by Camelot is not possible now, I did make you a promise that when we made love for the first time, that my ring on your finger would be eclipsed by your beauty.”

She caught her breath at the ring that lay in his hand. A beautiful sapphire in an oval cut lay atop a split shank white gold band studded with ten round diamonds on each side with four marquise cut emeralds. She looked up at him with all the love in her eyes as he took her left hand in his own. His eyes never left hers as he pushed the ring onto her left ring finger. “I’m sorry that you’ll not be getting the royal wedding you deserve, but Hereto do I pledge my love, my trust, my protection, and my fidelity to you. From now until the end of time.” He lifted her hand to his lips and reverently kissed the ring.

Lifting her right hand to his face, she spoke her own vows. “And from this day forward, do I pledge to you my love, my trust, and my fidelity. From now until the end of time.”

Cradling her face in his hands, and looking deeply into her eyes, he pressed more kisses to her face. His lips met her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, the tip of her nose, and her chin before capturing her lips again. Their spirits soared as they both realized that they belonged to one another. Forever. As their kiss joining them as man and wife deepened, his hands were busy as well. She could feel his fingertips running down the outside of her shift, gently caressing her form underneath. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed against the skin of her chest, working his way toward the top of the garment. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Yours,” she answered, “all yours.” She moaned as he lowered the top of her shift, exposing her breasts to his hands and the cool night. Her nipples tightened when he blew across them, before lowering his lips to one for a gentle kiss before drawing it between his lips. He sucked and nipped as Emma writhed beneath him clutching his head with one hand while gripping the sheets with the other, trying to stay grounded.

Her gasps of pleasure turned into moans as he switched to the neglected breast. She was beginning to wonder if she might come from this alone as he fondled one while sucking the other, never letting up on the exquisite pleasure that settled in her core. He continued to work the shift down her arms and body as it exposed more of her pale skin to his searching gaze, hands, and lips. Her bones felt like they were melting within her under the scorching heat of his kisses. She could feel his scruff rubbing the inside of her thigh as he finally drew the fabric all the way down her legs. Standing before her, still nearly fully clothed, his eyes hungrily roamed her bare form with only a scrap pretending to be underwear hiding her most intimate place from his gaze.

Reaching for him, she drew him back down to the bed where she began the arduous task of removing his linen shirt, cravat, and pants. “You have too many buttons,” she complained, finally drawing his shirt apart and exposing his toned chest to her gaze. She ran her fingers through the dark chest hair as her mouth traced the chords in his neck that stood out from her attentions. Pushing him back onto the narrow bed, she turned her attention to his trousers that did little to hide his generous length from her. Killian watched with hooded gaze as with shaking fingers, she unlaced him and drew them down over his hips and legs allowing his cock to spring free. Leaning down, her veridian gaze met his through her eyelashes as she grasped the base with her hand and circled the head with her tongue before drawing him into her mouth. The moan she drew from him encouraged her in her efforts. Her head bobbed up and down his length until she felt him bump the back of her throat.

“Emma,” he moaned, “you have to stop. I want to come inside you, not like this.” His hands cradled both sides of her head, exerting gentle pressure as he tried to draw her up and off of him.

Releasing him with a pop, Emma looked like the cat that got the canary as she crawled up his torso, leaving kisses in her wake, before finally joining her lips to his once more. Tongues dueling, Emma gasped as she felt Killian switch their positions on the bed with a flip. She was suddenly the one on her back and he was nestled within the cradle of her thighs. Pulling back, his blue eyes shining in the low light of his cabin, his hand stroked down the side of her face and traveled down her side until he reached her hip and squeezed. Never breaking their gaze, she rose onto her elbows as she watched him follow the path that his hand had taken until he stopped, staring at the swan shaped birthmark on her hip. He placed a gentle kiss on the mark as he murmured how beautiful she was into her skin. He caught her eyes and she thought she would die with anticipation as he drew her soaked panties down her legs and threw them somewhere over his shoulder.

“May I, my love?” he asked, still not letting her look away from him.

She nodded, wordlessly, her eyes shutting and her elbows giving out, landing her on the mattress again. She was so worked up already that she knew it wouldn’t take much of anything to push her over the edge. She shuddered when she felt his tongue lick a long stripe through her sodden folds. He purred into her, “Delicious,” sending shivers all the way to her toes. When he sucked her clit between his lips, she detonated with a scream of ecstasy, white stars exploding behind her closed eyelids. Desperately grasping for him, she drew him up and captured his lips with her own. She could taste herself on him as she felt him line himself up with her entrance. He pulled back and searched her face. “I want to see you, Emma. I want to look in your eyes as I make us one.”

“Yes, Killian,” she moaned, opening her eyes expecting to see his blazing azure gaze, but instead was greeted by the predawn darkness.

“What? No! Not now!” she screeched. “I can’t wake up now!”

Emma realized she was awake, and sat up, beating her fists on the mattress, as if it was all its fault she was awake. She was still feeling the flutters in her core from her orgasm as she fell back onto her pillow and turned to look at her phone in the early morning light. Nearly six am. With a huff of frustration, she hit the mattress again and decided to get up and go for a run, since she knew she’d be getting no more sleep that morning. She dragged herself out of bed, determined to put the dream in the same place as all the others. She had enough to worry about today without some unrequited longing taking first place in her mind. Putting on her running playlist after getting dressed for her workout, she let her mind empty to the rhythm of the music and her feet on the pavement.

~*~*~

About twenty minutes away from where a disgusted Emma Swan was forcing herself out of bed, Killian Jones lay awake with the taste of Emma Swan on his tongue and the most painful hard on he’d ever sported in his life. Taking himself in hand, he slowly pumped himself up and down. His head fell back to the pillow as he closed his eyes, bringing to mind her face as she fell apart under his ministrations.

“Emma,” he gasped. “Oh, Emma, how I love you.”

Moments later, he groaned his release as it hit him with the force of a Mack truck, thick ropes of his seed coating his hand and stomach. Rising from his bed after coming back to earth and stripping the sheets, he determined to put the dream behind him and concentrate on putting the finishing touches on the campaign before the party that night. There was no room for fantasy in the day he had ahead of him. He would do well to remember that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma’s ring can be found in the chapter artwork over on Tumblr. Many thanks to kymbersmith90 for her help in describing it. 


	4. Ch. 4

“Welcome everyone!” Peter Pan, CEO of Neverland Cruises, stood at the front of the largest conference room Emma had ever seen. The eighty inch flatscreen tv on the wall behind him was muted, but tuned to the local NBC station where, in just under ten minutes, the first commercial of the new campaign would air. “This almost feels like New Years Eve in Times Square. I feel like I should be telling everyone to grab their significant others for a kiss when the commercial airs,” he chuckled.

Emma’s gaze bounced around the room finding all her friends with their better halves before landing on Walsh on the other side of the room, hungrily staring at her. She stared him down for a moment as a trickle of unease made its way down her spine until he cut his eyes towards her boss before skittering away towards his own. Feeling triumphant, she turned her attention back to their client as the laughter his comment engendered started to die away. Looking around the room again, her breath caught as her gaze collided with Killian’s. Her eyes widened as she recognized the desire in their azure depths. Coughing lightly, she tore her gaze from his as Peter invited everyone to freely partake of the open bar and buffet.

_Why can’t I stop thinking about that damn dream? _She thought as she made her way to the bar. _It felt so real. More real than either of the others. _After receiving her glass of celebratory champagne, she turned back toward the front of the conference room, only to see her boss making a beeline for her. There was no way for her to make an escape without making it glaringly obvious that she was avoiding him, so she turned slightly making room for him at the bar as he put in his order for a rum. Her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline as she remembered the first dream and how he recognized the smell of the rum before pouring it over her cut. Which brought her back to her cut and the scar and finally the dream from last night. Feeling her cheeks flush, she tried to look down, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t notice.

“Well, Miss Swan,” he began. “Are you ready to see the results of nine months of hard work up there on the big screen?”

“I believe I am, Mr. Jones,” she replied, feeling more in control of herself. “Mr. Pan said it felt like New Years to him. I’d liken it more to having a baby. Nine months of work, putting this thing together, and now we’re about to see the results.”

Just at that moment, the sound on the TV was turned up as the show that was airing faded to black for the first commercial. No one made a sound as images of the Caribbean, Mediterranean, Alaska, and the Pacific Islands along with the newly refurbished Neverland fleet of ships filled the screen. The announcer’s commanding and persuasive voice extolled the virtues of getting away from the daily grind by booking passage on one of Neverland’s top of the line cruise ships to exotic locals for the refreshment of the mind, body, and spirit. The spot was only thirty seconds long, but after watching and listening to it and working so hard on it for so long, Emma was ready to pull out her phone and book passage herself.

A loud cheer went up around the room as the commercial came to an end. Before she could stop herself, she threw herself into Killian’s arms with a laugh of pure joy. They’d done it! It was the shocked visage of her boss that made her realize exactly what she was doing. Pulling back from him she saw his eyes visibly darken as she struggled to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry, sir,” she stammered. “I forgot myself there for a moment.” He seemed to be reluctant to let her go as he set her down on her feet again.

“No worries, Miss Swan.” His hold around her waist tightened briefly before letting her go. Looking up into his eyes, the shock that was there initially had been replaced completely with desire. She couldn’t face the intensity that she saw there, so she tore her eyes away from his and looked over toward the bountiful buffet.

“I… I’m just gonna…” she trailed away, waving vaguely toward the buffet line.

“Of course,” he agreed. “Would you mind if I joined you?” The hope in his voice was too clear to miss, but all it did was send her heartbeat into even more of a gallop as she tried to swallow down her panic.

“Oh, no sir,” she insisted, shaking her head furiously. “I’m sure you have better things to do than to stay with me all night. Peter, or your brother and Belle are probably looking for you by now. You should go find them, and I’ll just…” she trailed away again until she caught Ruby’s eye at the buffet table. “Just go join Ruby and Graham. Have a nice evening, Mr. Jones,” she tossed over her shoulder as she hurried over to where Ruby was filling her plate.

Arriving at the buffet table, Emma grabbed her own plate and started to fill it. “Hey, Ruby,” she greeted her friend.

“Oh, hi, Emma,” Ruby replied. “Isn’t this a great spread?”

Emma raised her eyebrows as she eyed Ruby’s plate. She wondered first of all how she was going to fit anything else on it and also, glancing at her friend’s figure, where she was putting it all.

Her mind flittered back to her boss and the way she had reacted toward him tonight, both before and after the spot premiere. Heat flushed her cheeks as she superimposed the desire she saw in his eyes tonight with the look in his eyes in the last dream. They were _exactly_ the same. She gave herself a mental shake, trying to dispel the vivid images from her brain. They couldn’t be the same look, because it wasn’t the same man. That was a weak sounding argument, even to herself.

Yes, it was true that after each dream she had looked for and found some of the same characteristics in her boss in real life that she had seen in the dream, but this last dream was altogether different. She’d known the _dream_ him. She had grown up with him, loved him, and he had loved her. Killian Jones did _not_ love her, and while what she felt for the man in the dream felt real, it wasn’t the same man that she knew. Which just brought her back to Belle’s arguments. To give him a chance.

Maybe she should have spent some time with him this evening. It certainly would make Walsh keep his distance. He was behaving so far, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way once he got some alcohol in his system. She turned away from the buffet with a fully loaded plate to see her boss in conversation with his brother and Belle. He laughed at something Belle said but she could still see some tension in his stance. He turned in her direction until he met her eyes. With a small smile, he turned back to his conversation. She felt her heartbeat pick up just a bit with that small interaction. What was he doing to her? She was determined to put him and the dreams out of her mind for the night and enjoy herself in the company of her friends.

~*~*~

Killian turned back to his brother and Belle as they bid him a good night and took their leave of the party early. Looking around the room, he realized that the only friend he had in the room was Peter, and he was busy playing host to both organizations. He didn’t have the time to entertain him all night. His eyes sought out Walsh then and found him keeping his distance from Emma, to his obvious dissatisfaction. With a hard stare and nod in his direction, he made sure that the contemptible man knew that he had his eye on him before seeking out the object of their mutual desire. He found her sitting and eating with Mary Margaret and her husband, David, and laughing at something he said.

Watching the delight on her face, with her head thrown back brought back the feeling of holding her in his arms earlier and in the dreams. His pants tightened at the memory while his eyebrows furrowed, remembering the panic in her eyes when she realized what she had done. Watching her now, happy and laughing with her friend, made him so jealous that he couldn’t see straight. It made no difference that she wasn’t his to be jealous over or that he had no claim to her attention, her appearance in his dreams made him feel entitled to her in a way that made his gut churn with anxiety. Watching her be open and free with everyone in the room except him, sent his thoughts spiraling into the depths of despair of how much he wanted to be the man that she chose to be with, and that she would never see him as anything but her boss. He went over to the bar, got a bottle of their best rum, sat himself in a corner, and quietly got plastered.

Several hours later, he raised his head from where it was resting on the table in front of him. The party was coming to an end and he knew that he should be heading home for the evening. Looking around the room, the only people he saw that were left were Peter, Emma, and just a few others. About six Peter’s and Emma’s were heading his way from the dance floor. He could feel his forehead furrow in consternation as they got closer. What were they doing? Coming for him? Why? Were they dancing? Why was one of his oldest friends dancing with the woman he loved? Didn’t he know to keep his hands off? Peter chuckled as they arrived at his table.

“Well, my friend,” he remarked, “looks like you had a _very _good time tonight.” His eyes ran over the nearly empty bottle of Shellback rum in front of him.

Killian propped his head in his hand and grinned widely. “Yep… I had a good time tonight. Just me, myself, and I. Sorry I can’t offer any to… all of you.” He frowned, trying to focus on his friend.

Emma rolled her eyes. “You’re drunk off your ass, aren’t you Mr. Jones?” she asked, shaking her head.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p.’ “I am entirely in command of my… faculties.” He wiggled his eyebrows salaciously while Emma looked over at his friend who was trying to keep his chuckles under his breath.

“How’re you getting home tonight, Killian?” he asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Pan,” Emma interjected, “I’ll make sure he gets home safely.” She wrapped her arm around his back and ducked her head underneath his arm before straightening and bringing him to his feet. Killian grinned at his friend.

“Yes, Peter,” he slurred. “Miss Swan here will make sure I get home safely.” He turned his head toward Emma and took a deep breath, burrowing his nose into her hair.

“Okay, Mr. Jones, enough of that,” she said, pulling away from him just the slightest bit while still holding him up and making their way toward the door. “Goodnight, Mr. Pan. Thank you so much for the party tonight. I had a great time.”

“Me toooo,” Killian singsonged, waggling his fingers at his friend.

After leaving the room, Killian attempted to straighten up and walk under his own power. Emma kept her arm around his waist, in case he stumbled. He found he really didn’t hate the weight of her arm around him, even if he was embarrassed to need it.

Now, finding himself in the back of a cab after leaving the Neverland headquarters in the company of the woman he loved, he found himself unable to keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth. “You are so beautiful, my beloved Swan,” he murmured, huskily. Reaching up to her face, he curled a tendril of her hair around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. The shock in her eyes didn’t register with him as he continued. “To show you how beautiful you are, I’m gonna have to send you flowers,” he slurred, closing his eyes. “Something exotic, beautiful, expensive, to show you how special you are… to me.” He opened his eyes and turned to her again. “Lilies. Stargazer lilies. Oh, wait a minute. Not lilies. Lilies make you sneeze. Make a note to remind me, Miss Swan. I’m a little drunk tonight and I might forget to do it.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, with a chuckle. “I’ll be sure to remind you to send me flowers.”

“Because you deserve them,” he mumbled. “You’re the best employee we have at Jones Brothers Advertising. You work the hardest, and produce the best product. You’re a shoo in for the promotion to LA.” He looked back up into her face then, with an intensity that seemed to be affecting her ability to breathe. He leaned in closer. “But when you do… get the promotion, I mean, I’ll only get to see you a few times a year. And only on a computer screen. Never in person…” he trailed away. “I’ll miss you, Miss Swan. Will you miss me?” His eyes never left hers as he moved toward her.

~*~*~

_“Will you miss me?”_

Emma was speechless. This was her boss, Killian Jones, Vulcan, confessing that he had feelings for her. His cobalt gaze held her as his head moved closer to hers. Before she knew what was happening, she closed her eyes and tilted her head up to receive his kiss. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. There was affection, and tenderness, but also fire and passion. His hands tentatively cupped her face, but that hardly mattered. She was melting under the tender assault of his lips and tongue as they moved over hers, thoroughly exploring her mouth. Spiraling, she lost herself in the passion of Killian Jones kissing her senseless.

Long moments later, when the cabbie cleared his throat indicating their arrival at his home, he pulled back, shaking his head and blinking dazedly. “Miss Swan,” he mumbled, “Did I just kiss you?”

“Uh...” she replied, trying to regain some sense of equilibrium after the best kiss of her life, that he apparently didn’t even remember properly, “no sir. You didn’t.”

“Hmmph,” he conceded, “I didn’t think so. Must have dreamt it.” He shook his head again and retreated from her, leaving her bereft. “I must be really drunk.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed, “you are really drunk. And I think you need to go inside and sleep it off. Can you make it into your house alright? Or do I need to help you?”

“What?” he asked, shocked. “Nonsense. I’m perfectly capable of getting inside my own house, thank you very much.” He opened the door and lurched out of the cab and toward his home with only a minimum of swaying once he was upright considering how much he drank this evening. Turning back toward the cab, he clumsily bowed with a flourish. “Good night, Miss Swan. I hope you have a wonderful weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.” He turned away from her again, and made his way to his front door.

Emma turned back toward the front of the cab. She murmured her address to the cabbie before falling back into the seat with her fingers to her kiss swollen lips. What in the world was that? He _kissed _her! And not just a chaste peck on the cheek, but a real _kiss._ One that, she was alarmed to realize, she had reciprocated. She was so screwed. He was too drunk to even remember it, but she knew that she would have a lot of trouble forgetting it. How was she going to face him on Monday? She would have to do exactly what she’d been doing with the dreams. Putting them behind her and forgetting about them through sheer force of will. There was no room in her life for romance. She had her job and her friends. That was all she needed. She wanted that promotion. And his words tonight gave her a lot of hope that it would soon be hers. And then, she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him everyday, or dreaming about him at night, or kissing him when he was too drunk to remember it. She just had to keep her eyes on the prize. No distractions. No complications. No problem. _Don’t I wish._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday morning found Emma back in the office, fully focussed on the work before her when her intercom went off. “Miss Swan.” Killian Jones’s voice came over the line. “Would you come to my office, please?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “I’ll be right there.” Wondering what was so important that she was being summoned to his office, she rose and hurried to meet him. Coming into his office, he glanced up at her, before turning his attention back to the papers before him.

“The interior designer, the one responsible for the refurbishing of the entire Neverland fleet, wants a meeting. Her name is Tiger Lily. Don’t ask me about the name.” He shook his head holding up his hand to ward off her inevitable incredulous questions. “Her parents were probably hippies or something. She was so impressed with the spot, she wants to use us for advertising her business. And given that she’s worked so closely with Peter, she wants us. As in, you and me. Today.” He glanced at his watch. “In an hour.”

“Tiger Lily?” she asked. “Seriously, Tiger Lily?” She shook her head as something tickled the edges of her memory.

“I told you not to ask,” he admonished. “I don’t have any idea. That’s her name, and she wants to meet with us. So get your laughter out now.”

Emma shook her head with a furrow of her brow. The sensation that she was forgetting something, something important, was intensifying, but stayed, frustratingly, just out of reach. She shook her head again. “Tiger Lily,” she murmured. “Tiger Lily. Lily. Lilies. You said that you would send me lilies because I was the best employee you have here.” She looked up at him in disbelief.

“And when was this?” he asked, confusion morphing into The Frown in his visage.

“Friday night,” she replied. “After the party. We were on our way to your house. You were so drunk and you told me that you were a little drunk and might forget to send them.”

“And now you’re sulking that I didn’t?” His voice rose in disbelief.

“No, sir,” she exclaimed. “Then you said ‘Not lilies. Lilies make you sneeze.’”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t send them, isn’t it?”

“But,” she blurted, “How did you know lilies make me sneeze? I never told you that lilies make me sneeze.”

“Yes, you did, Miss Swan.” His patience was obviously wearing thin at his even and placating tone.

“No, I didn’t,” she insisted, shaking her head.

“That is enough, Miss Swan!” Killian’s temper finally got the better of him as he threw down the pen he was using with barely restrained violence, rose from his seat and placed his hands on the desk in front of him. “Why the devil are you babbling on about lilies?” Straightening up, he scrubbed his hand down his face. “You did tell me you were allergic to them. When I…” he trailed off then, The Frown melting from his face as recognition took its place. “When I put the rose in your hair.”

His stunned visage must have matched her own. He was there. He was there with her in the dream. He saw… He KNEW.

She looked around trying to find anything that she could hold on to until the dizziness brought on by the panic passed. There was nothing except the chairs in front of his desk, and that was way too close to him. _Oh my God,_ she thought.

“Oh. My. God.” The panic she felt in her heart and mind completely overwhelmed her. She turned from him and fled from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't yell at me too hard! Ch 5 sneak peek will be up Wednesday with the full chapter on Thursday!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Thanks to totheendoftheworldortime79 for the use of her original line from Unlocked.

Emma sat on the knoll outside her apartment watching children play on the playground below. Watching them was a very effective tactic in keeping her circling thoughts from overwhelming her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, raven haired man stroll toward her. She pointedly ignored him as he settled himself down next to her.

“I rescheduled the meeting with Miss Lily,” he answered her unasked question.

She nodded, still refusing to look at him. “Good.” Then, indicating to the children playing below, she said, “You see that little girl down there? The one with the red hair?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“She reminds me of a girl that I knew when I was a teenager. Her name was Kelly. She was older than me and a real snippy, jealous bitch. I can see that now, as an adult. When I came into the home, all I saw was a bully who took every opportunity to put me down and try to make me feel like Ingrid, our foster mother, could never love me. Didn’t work.” She shrugged before continuing. “Ingrid eventually adopted me and sent her and all the others away.”

He cocked his head to the side. “So I was right on the beanstalk, wasn’t I? You have been left alone.”

She rounded on him then, her anger flushing her cheeks. “Don’t you even say that! You have no right!” She turned back toward the children, angrily swiping at the stray tear on her cheek.

His voice was more gentle than she’d ever heard it before… awake, that is. “We’re going to have to talk about this. Eventually. You know?”

“No, we don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “We do not have to talk about _this_ at all. In fact, _this_ is THE last thing that I’d ever want to talk about.” She was more comfortable giving him some details about her less than ideal upbringing than she was talking about _this._

Emma Swan was a master at denial. She had a degree and everything.

“You’re my boss,” she exclaimed, waving her hands around aimlessly. “Not some dashing, romantic hero that my dreams keep painting you as.”

“_Our_ dreams, Swan,” he interjected, softly.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head furiously. “No, I refuse to believe that. Dreams are the most secret, most sacred… Dreams are the window to the soul.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head again. “I read that somewhere. But it’s true,” she continued, opening her eyes and turning to him. “Dreams are the window to the soul and no one… NO ONE… has the right to enter another person’s soul.” The tears she was so desperately trying to hold back escaped and tracked down her face as she turned back toward the children.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he apologized. He reached out to wipe away her tears, but then hesitated before touching her. “You’re right,” he agreed, “no one has the right to enter someone else’s soul. But this wasn’t _my_ fault. This was not something that _I_ did. And, you may not have considered this,” his voice got unbelievably more gentle, “but, if we did share dreams, and based on your reaction, I’d say we did. Although we should at some point compare notes, see how much lines up. Anyway, if we did share dreams, then not only did I enter yours, but _you _entered _mine.”_

She hadn’t thought of that. _Oh shit. _She turned surprised eyes on him. Ducking his head, he scratched behind his ear. Her mouth dropped open when she recognized the gesture from the third dream, just after he had given her the flower. “You did that,” she exclaimed, pointing at him, eyes wide. “You did that in the dream. In the meadow.”

His hand fell while his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed. “Well, that’s two things that line up,” he mumbled, visibly uncomfortable. He turned back to her. “Listen Swan, whatever happened, I think it’s safe to say we’re dealing with three dreams?” She nodded. “The beanstalk, Port Royale, and Camelot.”

Emma turned away, embarrassed. She knew what she experienced in the dreams, and was having trouble reconciling the fact that Killian had experienced the same things, too. She looked up to see him staring down at her hip.

“Do you have…” he began, with unabashed curiosity.

“Yes,” she exclaimed, indignant, her hand hovering over where her swan birthmark was. “Yes, I do. And I’ll thank you to not bring it up again! I resent this, Mr. Jones. I resent this very much.”

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he apologized again. “I truly am. I won’t bring it up again. But I think that the only way we’re going to solve this… thing…” he gestured between them, “between us, is for us to… uh, to…”

“You think we should have sex, don’t you?” she interjected, angrily.

“What? No!” he exclaimed, surprised. “Well,” his countenance fell into sheepishness, “maybe. But not… I mean...” he finished, indignation again coloring his tone. “These dreams put us in increasingly… ah… _intimate _situations.” His cheeks and ears were flushing again as he scratched furiously behind it. “I can’t help but think that maybe the universe is trying to tell us something?” His tone and shoulders rose at the end, making it more of a question than a statement.

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” she blurted out, “Soulmates? Not you, too!”

“What do you mean, ‘you too?’” The confusion on his face almost made her laugh.

“At lunch the other day, Down the Street Cafe.” She waved her hand around impatiently. “Soulmates was our topic of conversation. You’re not telling me you believe in them too, are you?” she asked, condescension dripping from her tone.

“What I believe about soulmates is neither here nor there,” he asserted. “What I’m trying to say is that given the nature of the dreams, maybe there is something to them. I think we should go away together. For a few days, at least. I have a place, well, Granny has a place, an island off South Padre, that I go to to unwind, relax. We could go there. Give you a chance to see me as a man. Not as your boss. If the other happens, well then, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Nope,” she argued, shaking her head vehemently. “Not interested. The dreams all happened when I worked late at home. Now that the campaign is over, late nights are over, too. There won’t be anymore dreams. So, there’s no reason for me to ‘see you as a man.’” She put air quotes around his earlier words. “Hopefully, I’ll be getting that promotion and moving to LA in a few months, so that’s even more of a reason to not ‘see you as a man.’” She was so caught up in her tirade, that she completely missed how his face fell at her words. “So, just leave me alone, and stay the hell out of my dreams!” She got up, and stormed back down toward her apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Emma Swan hurriedly returned to her home from the marketplace. She had left her temporary guest sitting outside her little cottage, and something that she had seen in the village had her heart beating rapidly in alarm against her ribcage. _

_She had found him on the shore, unconscious, nearly a month ago, on her early morning constitutional. The violent storm from the day and night before had finally blown itself out a couple of hours before dawn and had left the air crisp and cool. Since the storm had kept her indoors the day before, she looked forward to watching the sun rise from her usual place along the shoreline. She found that starting her day in this way put her in a good state of mind to get through the day as the village healer. _

_Before she got to her spot however, she came across a gravely wounded man. He had a huge gash along his torso, starting at his left collarbone and not ending until it nearly reached his right hip. Whatever had caused it, had nearly cut him in half. She was amazed that he still breathed. Once she got him to her cottage and could have a closer look at his injury, she realized he hadn’t been in the water long as the wound still seeped blood and the tissues around the gash were horribly swollen and an angry red, signifying infection had set in. _

_Over the course of the next week and a half, after sewing him up, she had treated him with poultices and cool sponge baths to bring his temperature down as the infection raged through his weakened body. She could only hope that the poultices and the infection fighting herbs she had to force him to swallow during very brief moments of consciousness would do their job and save his life. _

_She remembered her stunned awe when, almost two weeks ago now, she had awakened after a full nights sleep to find that his fever had finally broken and he was sleeping peacefully beside her. _

_He hadn’t opened his eyes until the next day, and when he did, she had to shake herself to keep from getting lost in their cerulean depths. She had answered his questions and asked a few of her own as she continued her ministrations over his injury in the following days. He still spent most of his time sleeping, so they didn’t have much opportunity to speak to one another. _

_Once his sleeping patterns evened out to a more predictable cycle, she started helping him out of bed for brief minutes each day before his exhaustion and weakness would overtake him and he’d have to be led back to the bed. After a few days of this, with each day his time outside the bed lengthening, his sass started to show with his mild complaining about being confined to the bed, not in the good way, he remarked, eyebrows waggling. She had finally promised him that she would let him get out of the bed today and stay that way for awhile after their noonday meal. She didn’t want to overtax his weakened body and cause a setback in his recovery. _

_After their simple meal, she had helped him out of bed and out of doors. Being out in the fresh air and sun seemed to make him lighter somehow. He had turned his face to the sun with his eyes shut and just basked in the midday warmth. When she told him that she needed to go to the market and he should come back inside while she was gone, he begged her to let him continue staying right where he was. He would be fine until she returned, he protested. She’d only be gone for about an hour and so she had reluctantly agreed._

_Now she was berating her stupidity as she nearly ran once she was beyond the sight of the village. She arrived at the cottage nearly breathless to find Killian right where she had left him on the crude wooden bench right outside her door._

_“What’s your hurry, lass?” he asked as she rushed over to him. _

_Struggling to catch her breath, she dropped her basket to the ground to help him inside, even though he didn’t really need it. “We have to get you inside,” she gasped, wrapping her arm around his middle. “Did anyone see you?” _

_“No,” he replied, puzzled, getting to his feet. “I didn’t see anyone. Why?”_

_“There’s a wanted poster in the village with your picture on it. Fifty gold pieces for information leading to your capture. You’re wanted for piracy,” she informed him._

_His countenance darkened as he allowed her to lead him back inside. “Aye,” he agreed, darkly. “His Majesty,” he spat out, “sent me and my crew on an unholy mission. I was captain of his flagship. I would have no part of it, and so, my crew and I stole his ship and have been doing what we could to destroy his navy one ship at a time.” His gaze bore into hers as he settled himself at the table._

_“What was the mission,” she whispered, sitting across from him._

_He bowed his head, refusing to meet her gaze. “I was ordered to a small, unnamed hamlet right on the borders of the kingdom. We were to arrive under cover of night, barricade every structure in the town, so that no one could escape, and then burn it to the ground. He said it would serve as a warning to those villages that resisted his rule.” Her gasp of dismay made his cheeks flush. “When I returned to the ship, I informed the crew what we were ordered to do, and immediately proclaimed us pirates, dedicated to the overthrow of this wicked tyrant.” His eyes had finally risen to hers with a burning flame behind them. “I’m proud to say, first, that my entire crew followed me and second, that in only two weeks time, we had sunk 8 of his ships. Then we were caught in that hurricane and I was thrown overboard. You know the rest.”_

_“Indeed, I do,” she replied. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured, “I mean, I can,” she said shrugging, “but I can’t BELIEVE it!” She shook her head, before standing up and making her way to the cooking area to begin preparing their dinner. “I have no love for King George, believe me. His taxes are oppressive and his cruelty is known in every corner of the kingdom. But this! This is beyond anything I’ve ever heard of!” She turned her eyes toward him with a burning flame of her own behind them. “I’ll help you,” she declared. “Do you need a healer on board your ship?”_

_He smirked and raised an eyebrow at her. “Why lass, are you saying that you want to stay with me? Hmmm?” She blushed and turned her attention back to the food she was preparing. _

_“Oh, um,” she stammered. “I was just offering my services… if you needed them… on your ship.”_

_He came up behind her until she could feel the heat from his body. “We’d have to find my ship first, darling.” _

_She spun around facing him, her eyes widening at his close proximity. “Oh no you don’t,” she countered him. “Don’t think I don’t know what those charms are around your neck. I noticed them when I got your shirt off when I first found you…” she trailed away, blushing again, as he looked at her with a knowing grin. “I know magic when I see it. I had to use a potion in the poultices to help with your healing. That gash should have killed you. Anyway, one of them is a charm against drowning and the other you can talk to another person who has a matching shell. I know that you’ve been communicating with your ship since you woke up.” _

_“Clever girl,” he replied, smirking at her. “You’re right. I have been communicating with my first mate. They were carried to the other side of the realm by the hurricane and are making their way back to get me. They should be here in the next few days. Perhaps as early as tomorrow.”_

_“Then take me with you,” she pleaded, looking into his eyes. “I can’t continue to live here under his rule. Not after this. Not when I can help you.” She looked down, blushing. “Not when I can stay with you.” She looked back up into his eyes then with all the longing and desire that she had felt for him since she found him, and that had only deepened since he awoke. _

_“Emma”, he choked out, as he met her gaze. “Are you sure? The life of a pirate isn’t an easy one. But I will take you with me, if you’re sure that’s what you want.” He raised his hand to cup her cheek, the tenderness in the gesture surprising her. Perhaps the desire she felt wasn’t unreciprocated._

_“Yes, Killian,” she breathed, “I’m sure.” She saw in his eyes the moment his control snapped. His lips crashed into hers as he gathered her even closer into his arms. She rose onto her toes to meet him, winding her hands in his black hair, before clutching his shoulders as his lips left hers and peppered kisses along her jawline and then her neck. _

_“Then yes, darling,” he murmured into her skin. “I’ll take you with me.” He claimed her lips again as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed they’d been sharing now for four weeks._

_“Do you have any idea,” he continued, “how long I’ve wanted this? Or how maddening it was to wake every morning with you beside me and not being able to touch you? Only force of will kept me from taking you into my arms while I awaited your answer just now.”_

_“Well,” she gasped in between kisses, “you weren’t exactly able to do anything about that until just these last few days, plus I wanted to be close in case you needed me, and I didn’t fancy sleeping on the floor.”_

_“That’s true,” he replied, claiming her lips again as he lowered her to the mattress. Releasing her lips when he dropped her, he climbed up and hovered over her, desire darkening his blue eyes. “Never doubt that I need you,” he whispered, before lowering himself down on top of her and kissing her deeply again. She melted under his ministrations when his tongue sought entrance and she eagerly granted it. _

_They undressed each other slowly, wanting the encounter to last. With every piece of skin exposed, with every gasp, with every murmur, every kiss and touch they fell more into each other until everything in their hearts and minds were consumed in the fire and passion they had for each other._

_Much later, when they lay together sweaty and sated, Emma traced nonsensical patterns into his chest. “We never ate dinner,” she declared._

_He chuckled before laying a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Aye, lass,” he agreed, “but you don’t see me complaining.”_

_She raised herself enough to settle her chin on his chest. “Oh, I’m not complaining either,” she smirked. “But I do think we should eat something. Keep up your strength.” She patted his chest with a wink._

_“Why Swan, were you planning on tiring me out this evening?” he asked, cheekily._

_“Maybe,” she drawled, pressing a kiss into his sternum. She rose from the bed and pulled on her shift, so that she could get them something to eat. As she did, she cataloged the herbs, roots, and equipment she would need to take with her when they left, as soon as the Jolly arrived. _

_“I should make preparations for leaving,” she said, returning to the bed after putting a hearty stew over the fire to simmer for a bit. “I can get things together while we wait for the food and by the time it’s ready, I should be too.”_

_“Whatever you need to do, darling.” He pulled her back down to the bed, kissing her tenderly._

_“Mmmm,” she murmured against his lips. “I won’t get anything done, if you don’t stop that.”_

_He chuckled. “That’s true.” She could feel his smile against her lips. “Maybe I want to ravish you first, then I can help you in your preparations.” He pulled her over on top of him and pressed his hips into hers so she could feel what she did to him. “Having twice the hands, can only make the work go faster,” he murmured, pressing sweet kisses into her neck, before working his way down to nip at her collarbone._

_“Ah yes,” she agreed, “having another set of hands will certainly make the work go faster.” She gasped as he lowered her shift to expose her breasts and dove in. After that, there were only gasps and moans of pleasure as they discovered even more of the secret places that left them panting and begging for more._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_“Captain. Come in, Captain.” The voice through the shell sounded tiny and far away. _

_“That’s Smee,” Killian moaned as he reached over Emma to grasp the shell necklace that had been discarded sometime the evening before._

_“I’m here, Smee.” Killian spoke into the shell._

_“Sir, at dawn three man of war’s flying George’s colors were spotted off the port side. We’ve tried to evade them, but they’ve caught up and are preparing to board. They haven’t tried to engage.” Killian looked at Emma, her eyes wide._

_“They must be trying to capture…” she whispered._

_“Aye,” he replied, solemnly. “The Jolly was his flagship. He’s probably hesitant to sink it. And if he does, and I were on board, then he couldn’t make a spectacle out of me. And if I know him, that’s exactly what he’ll want to do.” Turning back to the shell, Killian gave his orders. “Do not engage, Mr. Smee. When they board, do not engage. They’re trying to capture me and get the Jolly back. I won’t have you and the crew putting yourselves in that kind of futile danger.”_

_“Y- yes, sir,” his first mate stuttered. _

_“I’m sure we’ll be hearing what His Majesty plans for you before long, and I’ll make plans accordingly.” He paused, considering the implications. “Godspeed, Mr. Smee.” Killian turned tormented eyes upon Emma. “He’ll plan to hang them all.” Emma nodded. “I can’t allow that.” Emma nodded again. “As their captain, it’s my job to protect them.” He pulled her to him, so she couldn’t see his eyes, stroking her hair. “I’ll either have to successfully break into wherever he’ll be holding them or surrender myself in their place. There’s a decent chance that he’ll agree to that. There’s not a more vindictive bastard in the entire realm, and the chance to publicly humiliate and kill me after I stole his ship and made a fool out of him may be too much for him to resist.”_

_“Killian, isn’t there another way?” she pleaded, lifting her eyes back to his._

_“If you have another idea, darling, I’m all ears,” he mused. “I should send word to the castle immediately, so it arrives before word of their captures does. Offering myself for them.”_

_“But he won’t let them go,” she protested, raising herself to her elbow so she could look down at him. “He’ll trick you somehow and hold on to them, then hang you all.”_

_His blue eyes were contemplative as he met her fearful gaze. “I’ll have to refuse to surrender myself until they are safely away then. I’ll have to see them safe with my own eyes before I’ll turn myself in.” His countenance hardened then with his next words. “You’ll have to go with them, love.” She started to shake her head when she realized what he was saying. “Don’t you shake your head at me. You’ll hang too for hiding me. And I won’t have that.” He pulled her back down to him until her head rested on his bare shoulder. _

_“I can’t lose you, Killian,” she murmured into his skin, before placing a chaste kiss into his collar. “I’d rather die than lose you.”_

_“No, love,” he whispered before kissing her forehead. “You have to go on and live. Stay with my crew. They’ll keep you safe, and you can play your part in bringing George down. Smee knows about you, so there’ll be no issues when you arrive at the ship.”_

_Tears filled her eyes as she moved up towards him, gently capturing his lips with her own. The kiss was languid, unhurried, tenderly exploring one another. Emma’s hand found its way into his hair and tugged him even closer, as if she was trying to occupy the same space or consume him completely. The other traced his ribs leaving fire in its wake before it traveled lower and grasped where he was hard and aching for her. He thrust into her palm seeking that friction that would lead to unadulterated bliss. _

_“Oh, Emma,” he groaned, releasing her mouth. His eyes momentarily rolled back in his head under her exquisite torture before he came back to himself and flipped them on the bed. Killian stared into her half shuttered emerald eyes, trying to read what he found there. His hand tenderly cupped her jaw before trailing away down her neck until he reached her breast. She writhed under him as he teased and kneaded her ample breasts before sucking a turgid nipple into his mouth, never halting his explorations._

_“Ahh, Killian,” she cried out under his ministrations. Killian flicked her nipple with his tongue and was rewarded with a gasp of pleasure. He smiled against her skin before he proceeded to suck a mark into her breast. Her breathless moans wound the tension inside him tighter and tighter until he worried that he’d explode before he could bury himself within her heat. His hand continued its way to her core where he found her wet and wanting._

_“Oh, yes, my darling, always so wet for me,” he praised.._

_“Yes!” she cried out. His long fingers curled up inside her, searching for the spot that made her see stars. “Yes, for you! Only for you!” _

_“Gods, Emma,” he moaned, as she started to ride his fingers. “I need you now. Need to be inside you. Please,” he begged._

_Emma stilled and captured his gaze with her own. “Yes, Killian.” She lined him up at her entrance where he took her in one long smooth stroke._

_Twin groans of ecstasy reverberated around the small cottage as he sheathed himself in her warmth. He crashed his lips against hers as his heart beat a singular rhythm. Em-ma, Em-ma, Em-ma. He held himself still for a moment, savoring the feeling of home he always felt when he was inside her. For a captain, home was his ship. But being with her these last few weeks, even if he was only conscious for the last two, a wholly unfamiliar feeling had risen up. He couldn’t deny Emma’s beauty or her expertise and care for him when he was nothing but a stranger to her. But these past few days, as she continued to care for him, he knew that he couldn’t leave her behind. _

_Once the Jolly arrived, he had planned on doing whatever was necessary to convince her to come with him. But then, she had her own revelations about her feelings for him, sending him reeling. His strong, fierce, beautiful Swan cared for him. She had captured him, heart, body, and soul and he would not take a single moment left to them for granted. She was his home and he loved her with an overwhelming passion. He wouldn’t have his love blaming herself or regretting anything that had happened between them when he was gone. _

_He began to pump a steady rhythm into her, determined to show her what he couldn’t now and probably wouldn’t ever speak of. Their rapture built slowly until at last, he raised her leg to rest on his hip and his thrusts grew more frantic. The change in angle was exactly what she needed for her walls to begin quivering along his length. With a cry of his name and her fingernails digging into his shoulders, her walls clamped down on him dragging him over the edge with her. Killian pressed his lips against her forehead, eyelids, and nose before caressing her own as they drifted back to earth. A whimper reached his ear as he rolled off of her, not wanting to crush her. He drew her back into his arms and stroked her bare back as she nestled her head into the spot where his neck met his shoulder._

_“Okay, I’ll go with them,” she promised, placing a gentle kiss to where his pulse was still beating rapidly. He drew her even more tightly into his arms before dropping a kiss on her forehead. _

_“Come,” he said, rising from the bed, “I have to send word to the castle. How many days journey is it from here?” _

_“As the crow flies, about half a day,” she replied. “In actuality, about two days journey by horse. I would imagine that your crew would be held here in the village gaol, and that George would travel here for their hanging. It would be much easier for him to come here rather than his guards to take them to the castle. There are too many chances for an ambush and possible escape between here and there.”_

_“Then I should send word now, before his men have a chance to notify him of their success.” He pulled on his clothes and turned to her again. “Do you have paper, and a quill and ink?” he asked, “Or do I need to go into town to procure them?”_

_“Are you kidding?” she asked, incredulously, “With your face on the wanted poster?” She shook her head. “I have some here. You write your message, I’ll take it into town. It should be there in two days time, before he receives tidings from his men.” His face was tender as he drew her into his arms. _

_“Then we have at least two more days together. I suggest we make the most of them,” he breathed before kissing her breathless again. “But first, my message.”_

_He settled himself at the table and began to write. _

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_There was an air of celebration in the square of the village. Public hangings were always looked forward to as a distraction from the mundaneness of everyday life. And the hanging of pirates was even more eagerly anticipated because of the notoriety of the prisoners. This hanging promised to be entertaining. An entire crew that had deserted from his majesty’s navy would meet the noose. They had also been responsible for the sinking of ships that carried food and other goods that the villagers depended on. _

_The crowds had started to gather just after dawn, with the hangings to commence at noon. Killian and Emma had absconded away from her cottage not long after to where the Jolly was still docked a week after George’s men had arrived with their prize. George planned on boarding the ship, reclaiming it as his own, and returning to his castle after the hangings were over. Killian had planned on hiding Emma near the ship so that when his crew was released, she would join them on the Jolly and be safe. What he didn’t realize, of course, was that Emma had no plans whatsoever to leave Killian to his fate. She planned on dying beside him, knowing that once she revealed herself at the hanging, she would be arrested and hung as an accessory. But she wouldn’t let him know that until the last possible moment._

_She stood at the back of the village square hidden in the shadows where she could see all the proceedings. King George sat on his makeshift throne on the dias to the left of the scaffolding meant for the pirates. As the pirates were led out from the gaol, a hush descended on the crowd. Until a brave soul spit at the pirate at the head of the line. Then the quiet tension was broken as the gathered crowd began to yell, scream, throw things, and jeer derisively at the prisoners. George had a smug smile on his face as the pirates were reviled and beaten by the half crazed assembly. Suddenly a shot rang out and the fabric making up the back of the dias blew back where the bullet penetrated only inches from where King George sat. His smile disappeared as a shout rang out over the alarm of the crowd._

_“Hear me, subjects of King George.” Killian cried out over the gathering. “I am Captain Killian Jones of the Jolly Roger, and I am here today to surrender myself to your king in exchange for the lives of my men. When I was notified of their capture, I sent a message to the king laying out the terms of my surrender. As captain of these men, it is my duty to see to their safety and well being. When your king received my missive, he rejected my offer. Apparently it’s better to kill many then to capture and kill the one that is truly wanted. _

_I am responsible for the taking of the king’s flagship. I am responsible for the sinking of eight of his ships in single combat. I am the one that he wants. But in true cowardly fashion, he has to make a statement. A statement that, he hopes, will be received with fear and trembling in his subjects. Now I ask you. Is that how a king should rule? Through fear and intimidation? I think not. But that is exactly what he does. _

_I stole his ship and plotted my course of securing his downfall because of the mission he sent me and my men on. To a village, a fortnight’s journey from here by sea, on the outskirts of his kingdom. To barricade every building within the walls of the village and burn the village to the ground, killing all the residents within. The aged, women, children. I could have no part in the deliberate murder of innocents. For that, yes, I am guilty and I will pay the price. But you will release my men, your majesty. Then, and only then will I lower my weapon and place myself in your hands. I give you my word. And my word can be trusted. Because I am a man of honor. Otherwise, I will shoot and kill you where you sit. That earlier shot was a warning. This pistol is aimed right between your eyes, and I will not miss.” _

_King George’s face was nearly purple with fury, but after a tense and silent standoff with the pirate captain, he finally nodded at the executioner and ordered him to release the prisoners. Eyes never wavering from his former sovereign, Killian called to his men. “Make haste for the Jolly Roger, Mr. Smee. You know what to do.”_

_“Aye, aye Captain,” the rotund man shouted back. _

_Once the pirates had left the square heading in the direction of the docks, Killian lowered his weapon. The smirk was back on King George’s face as his guards rushed the captain and dragged him to the scaffolding. _

_“You were right, you know, Captain,” the king sneered. “I did want you. But with you now out of the way, it’ll be nothing to capture my ship back and all of your men will still hang.”_

_“Do you hear that?” Killian shouted again at the crowd. “King George will stop at nothing to squash every last voice that rises in opposition to his rule. Remember that, I charge you all,” he proclaimed, his restrained hands pointing at the crowd._

_Emma could wait no longer as the noose was fitted over Killian’s head and tightened. She pushed forward shouting his name. “Killian!” The crowd parted before her so that she ran unimpeded to the very foot of the scaffold. “I love you!”_

_He looked down at her, love shining in his blue eyes. “I love you, too.”_

_King George gave the signal and the trap door was released._

The sickening crack jerked Emma upright in her bed, tears streaming down her face.

Trying desperately to catch her breath, she nearly knocked her phone to the floor instead of picking it up in her trembling hands. Barely able to see through her tears, she found him in her contacts and pressed call.

“Yes,” he answered curtly, after the first ring.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything other than gasp out her sobs of relief at hearing his voice.

“Emma?” he asked, concern coloring his voice.

She nodded, still not able to speak, not realizing that he couldn’t see her.

“I’m okay, darling,” he cooed, “I promise you, I’m alright.”

She nodded again, still trying to bring her sobs and breathing under control, and ended the call.

Untold minutes later, while still trying to shake herself from the clutches of the dream, she heard a knock at the door. Opening it she found her boss standing on the threshold looking quite the worse for wear, still in his pajamas, with his hair sticking up in all directions. Seeing him there, all the emotions that she was trying desperately to hold back came roaring into the space between them as she fell into his arms. Her sobs, that she had nearly gotten under control, now echoing in her ears. She was barely aware as he lifted her into his arms, bridal style, and carried her into her apartment, using his foot to shut the door behind them.

He whispered endearments and comfort into her hair as he sat down on the sofa, still holding her close. As her sobs finally started to taper off into gasps and hiccups, Killian nuzzled his nose against hers. “If I pull some strings, we can leave today,” he murmured into her skin. She had not the strength to resist him and nodded into his chest.

This last dream was the final straw. She wasn’t sure she could survive another one. She’d do anything to get them to stop. The dream had exposed the deepest part of her heart and mind, leaving her no place to hide now. She wasn’t just attracted to Killian, she loved him. And she probably had since she first came to work at Jones Brothers.

“I don’t understand,” she confessed, “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t even turn on the TV tonight.”

“No…” he trailed away, “but I did.”

She raised incredulous and accusatory eyes toward him. “You did this… intentionally?”

“What? No!” he exclaimed, clearly horrified. “I would never willingly seek this. I wouldn’t put you through an experience like this.”

“No, of course not,” she agreed, looking back down. “It must have been horrible for you, too.”

“I mean, maybe unconsciously,” he conceded. “I couldn’t sleep. I don’t even remember what was on. Sometimes I just like to have another voice in the house.”

“Me too,” she agreed. “It’s exactly why I turned on Netflix on the nights I was working late at home. It keeps things from getting too quiet when you have nothing but work or your thoughts to keep you company. And those nights, those episodes of Black Sails, showed up in our dreams.”

Suddenly very aware of how close he was holding her, and his continued caresses down her arm and back, she startled back and got up from her spot on his lap. “I’ll, uh…” she trailed away. “I’ll pack and be ready to leave…” She looked everywhere but at him. “Uhhh, how long will we be gone?”

“Let’s plan to come home Sunday,” he decided. “If that’s okay with you? I’ll go home and pack, and make some phone calls, then I’ll be back to pick you up. Probably about nine?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she agreed. She walked over to the door and opened it for him as he rose to take his leave.

“I’ll see you then,” he whispered. She looked up at him then and was startled by what she found swimming in his blue eyes. Trust, devotion, love. All the things that would normally have her running as fast and as far in the other direction as she possibly could. But for some reason, the thought of doing that with him, simply made her heart ache. Shutting the door behind him, she leaned back against it. _What have I gotten myself into now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original evil writer in my life, my incomparable beta, HollyeLeigh, wouldn't let me leave the chapter where I planned to. So all the blame goes to her that I didn't leave y'all hanging, pun definitely intended. Since I know you all were so looking forward to the cliffhanger!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N The getaway house is a real house that’s for sale atm on South Padre Island, Texas. If you’re interested in seeing what it really looks like, I used several pictures of the house in the artwork for this chapter on Tumblr.

Emma stepped down out of the small Learjet that Killian had piloted and looked around at what could only be called an oasis_. _The sun shining down on the metal of the plane momentarily blinded her, but the landscape around her was already seared into her brain. The sand that surrounded what couldn’t even be called a proper landing strip - it was only a flat strip of compacted sand surrounded by dunes and sea grass.- was a dazzling white. Killian had landed them squarely in the middle of paradise with nothing but sand, seagulls, and marine life for company. She was very glad she’d had the presence of mind to pack her bikini.

“This is beautiful,” she said, struggling to keep the awe out of her voice.

He came back around from collecting their suitcases with an amused expression on his face. “What were you expecting?” he asked, gently.

Even behind his aviator sunglasses, she could imagine the twinkle in his eye as he questioned her. “I don’t know what I was expecting,” she sighed. “I’ve never been to the Gulf. But, I can tell you, it sure wasn’t this. Where are we?” After the interrupted sleep from the night before and lack of sleep in general over the last couple of weeks, it wasn’t long after they took off in Dallas, that she succumbed to slumber. When she woke, all she could see was white and crystal blue. Very much like a pair of eyes that she loved.

“We are on a small private island off of South Padre Island. It belongs to Granny, but she used to bring us here during the summer when we were growing up. She comes down here less often now, so she lets us use it.” Looking at his face, she thought she caught a glimpse of something like peace as he surveyed the landscape. She scrambled to catch up to him as he led the way towards the dunes and away from the plane.

“Where are we staying?” she asked. The “landing strip” was surrounded by dunes and she was having trouble picturing what kind of accommodations there might be. Her calves were screaming at her after climbing the dune Killian seemed to have no trouble with. Finally catching up with him on the other side, she was surprised to find him standing next to a jeep, under a covered aluminum shelter, holding the door open for her.

“Thank you,” she murmured, climbing inside. She shot him a look from under her lashes, with a coy smile. “So now you’re going to be a gentleman?”

“I’m always a gentleman, Swan.” He smirked at her with a cocked eyebrow before closing the door and heading around to the other side. “The house is just on the other side of those dunes,” he said as he climbed in.

Cresting the dune, the house they’d be staying in came into view. She was stunned to silence at the peaceful tranquility that enveloped her as Killian pulled up in front of the double car garage of a magnificent home which was surrounded by palm trees that soared over the second level of the home. “Wow,” she breathed. She looked over at her companion who seemed to preen at her admiration.

“When Hurricane Dolly hit in 2008,” he explained, “there was enough damage to the house we visited as kids to justify tearing it down in order to design and build this one. We spared no expense to make it a home that would withstand Cat5 level hurricane winds. Although the island has never been hit by one that strong.”

“We?” she asked, confusion coloring her voice. “Who’s we?”

“Oh,” he exclaimed. “That’s right. You wouldn’t know.” His eyebrows danced and an air of mischievousness danced in his eyes. “I wanted to be an architect. Always loved drawing when I was a kid, and when I reached high school and was really good at math, I thought about engineering as a major with plans to become an architect. However, when Liam graduated with his Business Marketing degree and pitched the idea of an advertising agency to me and Granny, I was sold. Granny put up the capital to get the agency off the ground, and I went to school and got my degree in graphic design and advertising. My best friend Robin did go on to study engineering and became an architect. So I designed the house, and we contracted with him to actually build it.”

Her smile nearly split her face in two. “That’s such a great story!” she marveled, climbing down from the Jeep. “And it’s wonderful that you had such a hand in it!”

“Someday I’d like to do the same at home,” he mused, as he followed her up the walkway to the front door.

“What,” she asked, looking back at him. “Design your own house?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “What I have is fine for now.” The intensity in his blue eyes seemed to pin her in place as he stood before her before opening the door. “But someday, when I have a family, we’ll want more space.” She could no longer meet his eyes. Not with the hope and yearning so plainly written there. She looked down, blushing, acutely conscious of exactly what he meant.

He opened the door for them and stepped into the foyer where they were met with three staircases. The one on the right led down, the one in front of them went up to what looked like the main living space, and the one to the left appeared to lead to the bedrooms.

“The master suite is off the main living area and kitchen. You can have that.” He nodded in the direction of the stairs in the middle. Then, indicating the staircase to the left, he continued, “That’s the guest wing. You can see the first bedroom suite there, and the stairs lead to the other.” He picked his own suitcase back up. “I’ll let you get settled, then take you on a tour?” His hopeful expression was enough to make her cheeks heat up again.

“Sure, that’s fine,” she replied. “But I’m not staying in the master suite. This is your house.” She picked up her own suitcase and passed in front of him to the first suite. Before entering, she turned back to him. “Does it matter which one I take? Do you have one that you normally stay in?”

“How did I know you were going to say that?” he asked, amusedly. “I usually stay in the one at the top. It has the best view. Besides the master, I mean. Plus the master has access to the back deck overlooking the pool. When I called Granny to let her know we were coming down, she wanted you to stay in the master.”

“You told Granny?!” she screeched, eyes wide.

“Relax, Swan,” he soothed. “She’s not gonna tell anyone else, first of all. And second of all, it is her house. I needed to let her know I was coming down so she could get groceries delivered and the maid service out here.”

At that revelation, she deflated somewhat. “Oh, okay.” She turned questioning and unsure eyes back up toward him. “You’re sure she won’t tell anyone? If this got out among the girls, I’d never hear the end of it.” She rolled her eyes, hoping that she was keeping the fear out of them and her voice. “The grapevine in the office is very healthy and well tended.” She stepped into the bedroom and gasped.

The expansive suite was tastefully decorated and well lit. There were two large windows in the opposite corner bathing the sitting area in the late morning light. She walked in and set her suitcase on the floor. She turned around to see that Killian had already left her to get unpacked and settled. The bathroom behind her had a separate sink and changing area, with the toilet and shower in the adjoining room. Coming back into the bedroom, she decided that she’d better unpack before she tried out the very comfortable looking king-size bed that took up the center of the room. _If I lay down on that, I might not get up._

After unpacking and hanging up her clothes, she walked over to the windows and looked out at the gentle surf on the other side of the pool below. Giving a sigh of contentment, she walked over to the bed and sat down. She was right. The bed was insanely comfortable. She laid back and pushed her way up to the pillows that decorated it. Minutes later, she was not aware as Killian came down the stairs and stopped at her door. He smiled gently at her sound asleep on the bed before he walked away.

~*~*~

Killian looked up from his place on one of the sofas in the den when Emma walked in still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes three hours later. “Sleep well?” he chuckled. A wide smile broke out over his face as he gazed at her adorably sleep rumpled state.

“Yeah.” A grin broke out on her face, too. “I really needed that. I haven’t slept well the last couple of weeks, you know? And the flight wasn’t long enough.” The twinkle in her eye absolutely delighted him as he rose to meet her, taking her hand in his. Her hand was still warm from sleep as he squeezed it lightly.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, leading her into the kitchen. “The groceries arrived while you were asleep. We have fixings for almost anything you want. I can show you around after we eat.”

“Yeah, starving actually,” she replied. “Could I have a grilled cheese?” She looked at him a little sheepishly as she shrugged. “It’s my favorite.”

“Of course, Swan,” he agreed, easily. “We have Kraft singles, deli American, and Colby Jack sliced cheese. Which one would you like?” He opened the refrigerator and bent over as he peered inside. Looking back at her, he smirked when he spied her blushing and looking everywhere around the gourmet kitchen except at him.

“Oh, um, Kraft singles is fine,” she stuttered, finally looking back at him. “There isn’t, by any chance, a fryer is there?” She looked around again and started looking in cabinets.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, pointing. “Next cabinet. What do you want it for?”

“Onion rings,” she declared. “Can’t have grilled cheese without onion rings. Cutting board?”

“Over there.” He indicated to the cabinets under the breakfast bar that separated the dining and bar area from the kitchen then busied himself at the stove. While the butter melted he assembled their sandwiches all the while listening to her search the cabinets for batter ingredients after getting an onion out of the pantry. They worked side by side preparing their late lunch, Emma humming a little tune under her breath. The joy he felt working with her by his side, weaving in and out from each other as they put their lunch together, could not be overstated.

They finally sat down to grilled cheese sandwiches, onion rings, and sliced tomatoes. She rolled her eyes at him when he insisted on the “real” vegetable to accompany their repast.

Settling down to their meal, an awkward silence descended. He had a feeling Emma would be less than comfortable sharing anything of importance with him at this juncture, so he decided to suggest a game. “How would you feel about playing twenty questions?” His eyebrows rose in honest inquiry as he took his first bite. Emma scoffed.

“Twenty questions? Seriously?” she challenged him with a raised eyebrow, biting into an onion ring. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she moaned, “Damn, I make good onion rings.”

Killian swallowed back his own moan as he adjusted himself and tried desperately to control his response to her unintentonally erotic display. “Yes, Swan,” he answered, “The point of this getaway is to get to know each other. For you to see me as just a man and not as your boss. I thought playing twenty questions would help break the ice.”

“Okay, then,” she agreed “I’ll start.” She paused for a moment, taking a bite of her sandwich while considering her first question. “When is your birthday?”

“January 26th. Yours?” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“April 12th.” Her brow furrowed as she thought of another question. “Tell me about this place. I know you said that you designed it and your friend built it, but how did Granny come by it?”

“Granny was married to Texas oil billionaire Harold Lucas. They never had any children, so when he passed, everything went to her. I don’t remember him at all. He died about a year after we came over from England when I was a baby. My parents came to America when the last of their family died. They had two little boys to raise, and they were looking for a fresh opportunity. They found it in Texas. My father worked at a company that Granny was on the board of, and she just really took a shine to him. We’d only been living here for a couple of months when she invited him and the family to celebrate Thanksgiving with her and Harold. From there, she became the Grandmother we never had.”

He paused for another bite. The memories that he was about to share with her washed over him. “She bought this island when I was five. 1989. It had a house on it, and she invited the whole family down for a week to help celebrate my starting kindergarten. The last summer fling, so to speak. Liam and I had never been to the beach so we were beside ourselves with excitement.” He looked down with a soft smile on his face. “We had a grand time that week. Liam and I had our own rooms, we spent our days playing in the surf, hunting for seashells, and feeding the gulls. Doing all the things little boys do on a private beach.” He swallowed heavily, and cast worried eyes towards his companion. He didn’t want to upset her with what he was about to reveal.

“On the way home,” he began again, “Liam and I wanted to ride with Granny. It’s more fun than with your parents, yeah?” She nodded, with a small smile on her face. “North of San Antonio, before we got to Austin, we got caught in a massive traffic tie up. Traffic was at a standstill for over an hour. Of course, to us, it was forever.” He looked over at her again. Her brow was furrowed, and he could see she was starting to put two and two together.

“It was your parents, wasn’t it?” she asked. “That’s how they were killed, and how you were raised by Granny.” Her voice was a whisper.

He shrugged. “Guess you got more in that answer than you bargained for, eh Swan?” He looked back at her with a gentle smile. “It was a long time ago. It’s been many years since I’ve come to terms with it. Don’t feel bad about bringing it up.” He covered her hand with his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “When we finally got home, Granny called them to arrange for them to come pick us up. When she didn’t get ahold of them, she got us ready for bed and tucked us in. None of us the wiser. It wasn’t the first time we had spent the night with her. When she still couldn’t get in touch with them the next morning, she called the police. She was almost immediately granted temporary custody of us given that we had no other family. It became final six months later.”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

He shook his head. “I told you not to feel bad about bringing it up, Swan. Other than that very specific case, the memories I have of coming to this island every summer, are some of the best memories of my childhood. So please, don’t beat yourself up.” He lowered his head until he could catch her eyes. He smiled gently at her again. “I’m glad I could share some of my beginnings with you.”

Emma inhaled on a shaky breath. “I was found abandoned on the steps of a fire station in Dallas. I was only a couple of days old. I bounced around between foster homes, never staying in one more than six months, until I was fourteen and assigned to Ingrid. That’s where Kelly was. For the first time in my life I was loved. I’d only been there a few months when all the other kids were assigned to other homes and Ingrid adopted me. She let me keep “Swan” as my last name because of my birthmark. The one on my hip. Maybe it was originally given to me by a social worker, but it made me think of the fairy tale The Ugly Duckling. That I was like the ugly duckling no one wanted, but maybe someday I would become a swan. Ingrid said that because it was important to me, it was important to her.She made it legal and everything, even with the formal adoption.” She looked up at him then, more tears shining in her eyes. “I know you didn’t ask, but after your story, I felt like I owed you mine.”

“Oh no, Swan,” he argued, squeezing her hand. “You didn’t owe me anything. That being said, I am glad to hear about your beginnings.” He hoped the soft smile he gave her put her at ease, as she swiped at the tears that had escaped her eyes.

She barked out a watery laugh. “What a day for tragic backstories, huh?” she asked, a smile breaking through.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “I think that’s quite enough for today. Don’t you?” He rose, taking their plates with him and made his way into the kitchen to deposit them in the sink. “How would you like a tour of the rest of the house?” he asked.

~*~*~

He led them through a doorway where the wall above and beside it was decorated with crosses. All sizes and colors, some plain, some very ornate. They made for a very pleasing aesthetic as she followed him into the short hallway beyond.

“This is the butlers pantry with powder room here,” he pointed to his right, “and laundry room here.” He pointed to his left. They came out at an open landing where she noticed metal work in the shape of palm fronds below the banister railing.

“We wanted to keep with the tropical motif, so we had that made,” Killian said as she admired the piece. “Nice touch, don’t you think?” He smiled at her before climbing the stairs to the loft.

Smiling back, she answered, “Yes, it’s a very nice touch.”

His relaxed demeanor and easy smile since they’d arrived that morning was proving to be quite effective in relaxing her as well. She could feel herself opening up to him. Unwinding in his presence. Telling him her story had revealed more about herself than she had ever revealed to anyone. Ever. Even her close friends at the office didn’t know that portion of her past. It was enough to make her want to hand in her resignation so she’d never have to face him again. She was kind of stuck here with him with no way off the island though, and besides, she had made a promise. When she’d agreed to come, she’d made him a promise that she was willing to see where this thing between them might go. She couldn’t help the fear that gripped her soul with the knowledge that he now had the power to break her. Whether she had given her permission or not, her heart now lay completely in his hands. And it was terrifying.

~*~*~

He turned back to look at her as he arrived at the top of the stairs to the loft. He could sense her pulling away from him, just in these last moments. The furrow on her brow confirmed his suspicions. _Open book,_ he thought.

While the sharing of his story with her was a little nerve wracking and brought no small amount of heartache with it, the sharing of her story made him rejoice inside. She was finally opening up to him. She trusted him with that story. A story that was an integral part of who she was. He vowed to never make her regret sharing that part of herself with him, but as he took in her troubled visage, he concluded she was already regretting that decision.

He put his tour guide hat back on in the hopes of bringing her smile back out again. “This is the loft and office area.”

She looked around and the frown lines in her forehead disappeared. “I can’t tell you how much I love all the hardwood floors and cabinetry,” she enthused, “It’s so beautiful!” She made her way to the exercise bike with a smirk on her face. “Do you actually use this? Or is it just for show?”

He returned her smirk with one of his own. “Why, Swan,” he cooed flirtatiously, “are you wondering how I keep this lean, trim physique?” It was enough to make her blush and for her eyes to skitter away. He couldn’t help the surge of male pride that flooded him at her reaction. “I’m usually an early riser and if the temperature is comfortable outside, I’ll run on the beach. If it isn’t, I ride the bike. Notice the second one over here and the screens on them.” A delighted grin lit up his face. “When Liam and I are down here together, we’ll race. We can program in a specific route anywhere in the world. The bike will automatically adjust the tension and all that, so it’s as if we are really there, mountain biking in The Garden of the Gods in Colorado, racing along the banks of the Nile in Egypt, or screaming down the Auvergne in France.”

The grin that broke out, lit up her entire face. “Competitive, are we?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow.

He laughed. “Oh, you have no idea,” he assured her. “To this day, he calls me ‘little brother.’ Drives me up the wall.” His put upon sigh with his head thrown back was enough to have her trying to smother her giggles. Without much success. He looked back at her with puppy dog eyes. “Not you, too,” he pouted.

“Having a brother is a wonderful thing,” she chided him, her eyes and smile soft. “You should be thankful for him everyday. Even if he does call you ‘little brother.’” She let out another small giggle at that, causing his pout to melt into a soft smile.

“Oh, I do Swan. I do,” he assured her. “I just have to get back at him for it somehow. So I regularly hand his ass to him on the bike. I was always the more athletic one of the two of us.”

She wandered over to the bookshelves that covered the interior wall of the loft. Running her fingers along the spines, she found bestselling fiction next to The Art of War and a World Atlas. “Quite an eclectic reader, aren’t you?”

“Aye,” he replied. “I read voraciously growing up. Liam did, too. Granny made sure when video games were coming into their own in the ‘90’s and early 2000’s, that we spent more time reading than in front of a screen.” He chuckled warmly as his cheeks flushed with affection for his surrogate mother, grandmother, whatever.

“Let’s just test that, shall we?” she asked. “When did you read Lord of the Rings?” She crossed her arms over her chest, with a raised eyebrow.

“Ehhh…” he trailed away, with a thoughtful expression, trying to put a finger on it. “Early middle school. I’m pretty sure. Somewhere in the neighborhood of eleven or twelve.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you kidding me?” she asked, incredulously. “I didn’t read them until I was in college. After seeing the films in the theater. And the first time I read them, I almost didn’t finish. It was just soooo detailed. It felt like I had to plow through them. I couldn’t imagine reading them when I was still a child.”

“Well, now you know a little more about me, Swan.” That had her blushing again, and looking away from him.

He went back down the stairs to the small landing that led to the cozy balcony above the front door. “This is a nice place to come outside to think when I’m working and don’t want to head all the way back downstairs to the deck.”

“Mmmmm,” Emma mused. “It does have a lovely view.”

“Not as lovely as some,” Killian murmured, under his breath. “Shall we go back inside?” he asked, opening the door for her again.

“Thank you,” she said, preceding him into the home. He followed her down the stairs trying very hard to not stare at her shapely rear as she descended in front of him.

Coming back into the living room, he crossed in front of her to the bank of windows that covered the back wall of the house. The center window was actually a door that led to the back deck. Leading the way, he opened the door for her and held it open as she came out. He couldn’t hide his satisfied smile at the look on her face. Her gasp of surprise told him that saving this spot for later in the afternoon was the right way to go. The deck covered the entire northwest side of the house and the sun was beginning its descent to the left, casting its light over the pool below, the lush greenery surrounding it, and the deck itself.

“It’s breathtaking,” she breathed.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, looking down at her. She was too enraptured with the view to notice his unabashed appreciation. “Those doors lead to the master suite and these stairs over here will take us down to the lanai and pool.”

She all but skipped over to the stairs leading away from the deck and master suite. Her glee, evidenced by her joyful gait and the light in her eyes, filled his heart near to bursting. He had to hold back his chuckle at her squeal of delight as he descended the stairs behind her. She stood on the stone patio under the deck, wide eyed, soaking it all in.

“The grilling area is behind you,” he whispered in her ear, coming up behind her. He was gratified that she didn’t jump at his unexpected close proximity, but a slight shiver worked its way down her spine instead. He led her over to the hammock at the edge of the deck above and the pool beyond.

“I can just see you laying here in the hammock reading,” she teased him, with a smile.

“Aye,” he confirmed. “It’s one of my favorite ways to relax when I’m down here.”

“This pool is gorgeous,” she said, turning back to him. “Glad I brought my bikini,” she informed him with a saucy wink before her cheeks flushed again and she looked away. He was thoroughly charmed by her blatant flirting, especially when it was followed by adorable bashfulness.

“What makes you think you’d need the bikini, Swan,” he asked, his voice husky and a bit deeper than usual. Two could play at that game. “It is a _private_ island after all.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, causing her to smile with an even deeper blush than the one produced after her earlier flirtation.

“Over here, we have the bar area with a full bathroom behind that door.” He continued, pointing. “That other door takes us back inside to the main house and the stairs to the foyer. Over here,” he gently grabbed her arm and led her to the far side of the lanai, “is a natural stone waterfall. I’m particularly proud of it, because not only did I design it, but I built it as well.”

“It’s so beautiful,” she agreed. “So restful. Having running water and all this green around the pool, it’s a wonder you ever come inside,” she murmured.

“We can eat dinner out here tonight, if you’d like,” he proposed. “We have steaks for grilling.”

Her face lit up again with the brightest of smiles. “That sounds great,” she exclaimed. She swayed closer to him and looked up at him from under her lashes. “Bring a girl to a private island and cook her a steak dinner… think you’re gonna get lucky tonight?” She placed her hand on his chest where his heart was trying its best to thump its way out of his chest.

She was obviously getting more comfortable around him for her to be flirting with him like this. Even if she did seem to be a little unsure and hesitant about it. This time though, he was the one flushing with awareness. “Oh, uh, well,” he stammered, scratching behind his ear. It was a nervous tic that he’d had all his life and even at the age of thirty, he couldn’t seem to stop doing it when he was nervous. “That is entirely up to you, Swan.” He got his wits about him and bore his eyes into hers, bringing his own hand up to cover her own. “I know how I feel, and what I want to come from this getaway. But I’ll wait for you as long as you need.” He raised his other hand and caressed her cheek lightly.

His eyes held hers for a long moment more before he backed away to break the spell. “Well, that’s everything besides the master suite and my bedroom,” he declared. “Would you like to see either of those, or should we go ahead and start on dinner?”

“I’d really like to see the master suite,” she answered. “And yours too, if you didn’t mind. Everything is just so beautiful. I want to see it all.”

“Of course, Swan,” he agreed. “I’ll be glad to show you whatever you like.” He opened the door for her, leading to the stairs to the main level of the house.

“I put the master suite on this side, away from the other bedrooms thinking about the future with kids and grandkids staying here.” He grew wistful at the prospect then shook himself out of his reverie to continue. “And of course, there’s room to build another house or two on the island, so the entire family can come down and have their own spaces. As well as expansion opportunities for this house, if needed.”

Emma nodded as she followed behind him to the master suite. When she entered, she gasped again. As he came to stand beside her, she slapped him on the arm.

“Bloody hell, woman! What was that for?” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm as if she had punched him.

“For bringing me here, and showing me all this, and doing such a beautiful job on it, and, and…” tears shone in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I’ve never seen… I’ve never been to a place as beautiful as this. And for you to be the one to design and have a hand in building it… it’s just… a little overwhelming. That you would share this part of yourself with me.”

~*~*~

She could feel the blush spreading over her cheeks. Again. Why couldn’t she bring herself under control? At least he was blushing too, and scratching behind his ear again. That made her feel a little bit better. He was as nervous about showing this part of himself to her as she was about sharing her past with him.

She looked back at the master suite and caught her breath yet again. She moved further into the room and looked out at the deck. The suite had its own private access, and she couldn’t help swooning over the luxury of the design. The windows in the opposite corners of the room from the door let in an abundance of the late afternoon light. The room felt peaceful, a haven away from the cares of everyday life bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

She turned her eyes back toward him to see him making his way to where she stood looking at the deck. She wished that he would come up behind her, take her in his arms, pull her back against his chest, and just hold her while they watched the sun set. She shook her head at her fanciful musings. He’d never be that forward with her. Not yet anyway. It was one thing to flirt and indulge in casual, light touches. It was quite another to engage in that kind of behavior. The kind reserved for lovers.

She turned back to the deck and let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding. “It’s just so beautiful, breathtaking” she breathed. She could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he stood behind her. Turning to him, her eyes caught his as a small smile teased his lips. “Thank you for bringing me here, for showing me this.” She looked up at him again. “For showing me _you_. The real you.”

“You’re quite welcome, Swan,” he murmured. His azure gaze held her captive as she reached for him and drew him down to her mouth. The kiss was gentle. A tentative exploration of lips and tongues. She pulled him closer and rose on her toes to meet him as she held him in her arms.

~*~*~

Killian was stunned when her lips met his. It only took a moment, however, for him to recover and meet her tentative overtures with his own. Her trepidation and uncertainty were on full display in the hesitancy with which she kissed him, and the shaking he could feel in her limbs. He pulled her to him and determined to let her lead as far as she was comfortable. He opened his mouth to her and groaned in the back of his throat as she accepted the invitation to deepen the kiss. One arm wrapped around her even tighter as the other hand rose to tangle in her golden locks. They rocked together as the waves of the sea, a gentle push and pull of discovery and passion. He was quite thoroughly wrecked when he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers.

“That was…” he whispered.

“Definitely not a one time thing,” she murmured back, trying to catch her breath. She stepped out of his arms and sent him a coy look from underneath her lashes. “So, let’s see the rest of the house, shall we?”

“We shall, Swan,” he replied, swallowing heavily. Turning toward the room, he pointed to the opposite corner. “The master bath is through there.” He followed her into the bathroom and was gratified to see the wide eyed amazement on her face as she took in the natural stone and marble accented bath. He whispered into her ear, “The bathtub is a whirlpool and holds two.” He waggled his eyebrows at her as she blushed furiously and tried to suppress her giggles.

“Well then, we may have to try it… later,” she flirted back.

He couldn’t hold back his grin at her statement. He led the way back into the suite and living room, before letting her precede him down the stairs to the guest wing. Passing her own room, she turned to him.

“I love my room. The bed was incredibly comfortable. I might need you to tell me what kind of mattress that was so I can get one for myself.” She continued up the stairs to the final room of the house. “Ohhh,” she breathed. “You weren’t kidding when you said this one had the best view,” she exclaimed.

The viewing angle to the pool and beach with deck below was even better than in her room and with the sun already behind the greenery surrounding the pool, the entire oasis was steeped in an artificial twilight that would become full dark in just another hour or so. Just enough time to get the steaks cooked.

“Well, that’s everything, Swan.” He motioned back toward the rest of the house. “What say you we collect those steaks and fire up the grill?”

“Sounds good.” Her eyes danced with undisguised delight as she led him out of the room and down the stairs. “I love me a good steak dinner. What kind of steaks are they?” she tossed over her shoulder.

“New York Strips,” he answered her with a chuckle. “Bigger and juicier with more meaty flavor then a tenderloin,” he continued, with a salacious grin and waggling eyebrows. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs outside her own room.

“Oh really?” she purred, as he joined her. “I do like my _meat _to be big and flavorful. It’s just so much more _satisfying_ then.” The sultry look she gave him to accompany her flirting was enough to have his pants tightening uncomfortably. He released a chuckle as she turned away from him and headed back up the stairs to the main floor. The sway of her hips made him want to run to catch up with her and pull her to him to let her know exactly how she affected him.

_The minx is going to be the death of me._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After an excellent steak dinner accompanied by a heaping dose of flirting and innuendo and rounded out by an excellent Cabernet Sauvignon with a turtle cheesecake for dessert, Killian rose from the table. “Would you like to dance, Swan?” he asked, in all seriousness, holding his hand out to her.

She smiled gently at him as she laid her hand in his. “I’d love to,” she agreed, as he fiddled with his phone until soft music surrounded them from unseen speakers. She looked around in mild confusion as he drew her into his arms. “Where is the music coming from?”

“Hidden bluetooth speakers.” He chuckled at her wide eyed appreciation. They swayed slowly to the music just content to be in each others arms. Being held in the arms of the man she loved like this was better than she could have imagined. Her heart thundered in her chest as he tightened his arms around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. She broke out into a smile when she took a long inhale into the crook of his neck that made him shiver. The minutes passed in silence between them until the song changed to a waltz. She’d never done any ballroom dancing before, so the rhythm threw her off.

“Uh, I don’t...” she began, trying to pull away from him.

“It’s a waltz, Swan,” he interjected. “There’s only one rule,” he continued, drawing her more tightly into his arms, his eyes lit up with affection, “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He began to lead her in a simple box three step. His smile as he held her when she finally looked up at him after staring at their feet for most of the song, rivaled the sun at noon.

“Watch the mocking,” she pouted, “I think I may be getting the hang of this.” She looked back up into his sparkling blue eyes.

“I’m not mocking you, Swan. You’re doing just fine. You appear to be a natural.” He tightened his arm around her as the song changed again until she was fully pressed against him, from shoulder to knee.

They swayed together again, just barely moving. She could feel his arms flex around her, holding her close, making her feel safe. She rested her head on his shoulder again and her eyes drifted shut as they continued to sway to the music. A calm spread through her limbs like nothing she had ever felt before. The calm assurance that she _was _safe with him. Not just physically safe, but that her heart was safe with him. She thought back to the lunch with M’s, Belle, Ruby, and Tina. Remembering the discussion about soulmates and True Love. She looked up at him again, as she pulled away slightly.

“I have only been in love once before,” she whispered. He looked down into her eyes but remained silent. “His name was Neal and I met him when I was a sophomore in college.” His piercing gaze held her steady as the memories and pain washed over her. “I fell hard and fast. He was the first man to ever really pay me any attention and I was completely under his spell.” Her audience gave her an encouraging nod to continue when she paused to take a shaky breath.

“Over the course of the semester, I gave him everything I was. My virginity, my autonomy, my self-determination. My life became his, my wants and desires became his, my decisions became his, my body became his.” She shuddered remembering how thoroughly she had lost herself in that relationship. “I truly believed that he loved me as I loved him and that we would be together forever, so what did it matter that I completely isolated myself from my mom, my friends, my coworkers?”

Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not for _him_. He wasn’t worth a single one. Tears for the naive, trusting girl that she had been and was now lost forever though, was another story.

“When I got back to campus after Christmas, the truth came out.” Her voice broke and she choked back a sob. “I walked into my dorm to find him in bed with my roommate.” She wiped a tear away that had escaped. “He wasn’t the man I thought he was and I got my heart broken.” His attention never wavered and the myriad of emotions he was feeling paraded themselves across his countenance as she finished her story.

“I’m glad to hear that, Emma,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“You’re glad to hear I had my heart broken?” she asked, unable to disguise the hurt in her voice.

His finger traced the bottom of her chin as he lifted her face towards his. “If it can be broken,” he said, gently, “that means it still works. Even if it has been a really long time.” She stared into his eyes, catching her breath at the honesty and longing contained within. The silence stretched between them until she raised herself onto her toes and brushed his lips with hers.

He groaned as he pulled her flush with him and took possession of her mouth, plundering her as if he were a pirate of old and she was his greatest treasure. He lifted her in his arms as she tightened her arms around his shoulders and plunged her hands in his raven locks. His tongue as he stroked hers lit a fire within that threatened to consume her. His hands caressed the soft curves of her body until she melted into him with a moan that if she cared at all would be far too loud for the public setting of their dalliance. Even if they were on a private island.

Holding him tightly to her, her back met a solid surface and her hands began to slide over his body. She felt his strong shoulders, then his long, lean torso. The muscles there flexed from his exertions and the exploration of her fingers. Lifted off her feet, she wrapped her legs around his hips and crossed her ankles in the small of his back, bringing his hips flush to her core. He thrust his clothed hips into hers in time with the strokes of his tongue in her mouth. The inferno that raged within her veins melted her very insides as she succumbed to the exquisite pleasure of his ministrations. The dizziness brought on by the assault of his lips and hands overwhelmed her as his hand worked its way underneath her blouse to trace along her ribs until it cupped a breast, his fingers plucking at her nipple until it was at full hardness and screamed for his mouth.

Emma wrenched her lips from his on a moan. “Please,” she begged him.

“Please what, Swan?” he inquired, pressing tender kisses into her jaw and neck as he worked his way down into the valley between her breasts.

“Please,” she moaned thrusting her hips into his as much as she could while pinned to the column behind her. He pulled back until his eyes met her own. The clear blue was almost completely eclipsed by his blown pupils. She imagined that hers were much the same.

“Bed,” she whispered into the space between them.

He gave a small nod, then got her settled more securely in his arms. “Hold on tight, love,” he murmured before lifting her away from the column. She wrapped herself more tightly around him as he moved towards the stairs that would take them to the deck above and the main level of the house. Her lips found his pulse point and latched on as he climbed the stairs, nipping and sucking before soothing the area with her tongue. The groan that he let out encouraged her to continue. “I’m liable to drop you, Swan,” he complained, “if you don’t stop that for just a moment. Let me at least get off the stairs…” he trailed away as she released a chuckle into his skin. He opened the door into the living room as her lips claimed his again.

One hand left her ass as he sought the bannister to the stairway to the guest suite. “Awwww,” she teased, releasing his lips, “am I too distracting, sir, that you can’t make your way to a bedroom?”

The growl that he let loose as they entered her bedroom sent a shiver of desire down her spine. “I’ll show you distracted, woman.” He threw her down on the bed. His eyes were predatory as she shuffled her way up to the head of the bed and he climbed up, hovering over her. “How’s this for distracted?” He lowered himself to her and nuzzled into where her neck joined her collar. Her head lolled back to grant him greater access. “My beautiful Swan deserves my full and prompt attention,” he murmured, thrusting his hips into hers and devouring the skin at the base of her neck.

Moaning, she pulled him back up to her lips with a force that caused him to fall completely on top of her. Her legs opened as he claimed her mouth again, allowing him to settle in the cradle of her thighs. Her hips met his in a sensuous dance that was as primal and possessive as the one they both longed for. The roll of his hips hit her just right and after just a few thrusts into her clothed center, an orgasm unexpectedly crashed over her. Groaning into his mouth, she shuddered in his arms, coming down from her high while their lips and tongues continued to duel.

Without any warning, he stiffened above her, letting out a stream of unintelligible curses as he rolled off of her. With obvious reluctance, he sat up and moved away from her on the bed. “Sorry about that. I uh… got a little carried away.” He turned slightly towards her, cheeks and the tops of his ears aflame.

“I thought that was the idea,” she choked out, trying to make some sense of what was going on. The fire that he had lit under her skin demanded satisfaction, but she had to bring herself back to some semblance of sanity. She lay on the bed for the longest time still trying to pull herself together.

Tension rolled off him in waves as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Believe me, please. This is not easy to say.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t want me?” She hated herself for how small and vulnerable she sounded at that moment.

“No, Swan,” he exclaimed. “God no!” He grabbed her hand and brought it to where he was hard and thick. His eyes rolled in the back of his head at her touch. “Does that feel like I don’t want you, darling?” he asked, his eyes finally meeting hers.

She blushed furiously. “No,” she whispered.

He released her hand and she snatched it back to her side as if burned. “Don’t ever doubt, Swan, that I want you.”

“Then what’s going on?”

He released a resigned sigh. “Something’s not right. It’s not time yet.”

She stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “It’s not _time_ yet? Are you kidding me?” she asked, incredulously.

“I know! I KNOW!” he growled. “Believe me, I know! I’m not happy about this either.” His shoulders slumped in despondency. “I’m afraid we’re moving too fast. I mean,” he beseeched her, “you didn’t even agree to come with me on this trip until about fifteen hours ago. Being on this beautiful island, exchanging our stories, it can make for a very heady combination. I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning,” he whispered.

He was right. And she hated that he was right. Her body was telling her she wouldn’t regret a thing, but she knew herself. She knew she could very well wake up in the morning and blame the romance of the island for falling into bed with him so quickly.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Swan.”

“I want to,” she spat, struggling to hold back the tears that were gathering. “But you’re not.”

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he lamented, standing up from the bed. “I truly am. I think it’s best if we wait, though.”

Emma nodded, but refused to look at him. Despite his assurances, she couldn’t stop the humiliation at feeling rejected from sweeping over her.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he mumbled before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Unable to contain her tears any longer, she let them fall as she let out a muffled scream of frustration into the nearest pillow and then chucked it at the closed door. She got under the comforter wanting him, hating him, and loving him more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love to my beta HollyeLeigh for her invaluable input to the end of this chapter! Love ya bunches!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I am aware that in some places, it is illegal to swim with dolphins, but it is fan fiction after all. Just go with it.

Killian cracked the door open to Emma’s bedroom to see the blonde siren still in dreamland. She was on her tummy facing the door with her sunlit hair spread over the pillow and her face. The little whistle she released on her exhale caused the corner of his mouth to lift in an affectionate smile. He crept into the room and made his way to the windows and opened the blinds so the morning light flooded the room. “Rise and shine, sleepy head!” His exuberance obviously didn’t even register with her as all she did was snuggle her head deeper into the pillow and pull the comforter more firmly around her.

He laid down on the bed facing her, tenderly brushing her hair away from her face. “Oh Swan,” he singsonged. She finally cracked an eye open.

“Who’re you?” she slurred, still mostly asleep.

He broke into a full grin. “I’m a new day,” he exclaimed. “New opportunities. New experiences.”

“You’re insane,” she grumbled, turning away from him.

“No, I’m not,” he insisted, getting up from the bed. “Come on Swan, daylight’s a wastin’. Breakfast is ready and we need to get moving.”

“Why?” she questioned, turning back to him. She sent him a side eye as she pushed her hair out of her face and sat up. “Am I making you late for an appointment?”

“Ahh, not an appointment, per se,” he admitted, scratching behind his ear. “More of a rendezvous. Between us. With a specific activity in mind.” His eyes widened along with hers as her mouth fell open when he realized exactly what he just said. Holding his hand out and shaking his head vigorously he nearly shouted, “No, no, no, Swan! That’s not what I meant,” he justified himself, feeling his face flush. “I mean,” he stammered, looking down again, “I had an idea of how we could spend the day.” He looked up and met her skeptical gaze head on. “Deep sea fishing.”

“Deep sea fishing?” she parroted, the incredulous look on her face making him break into a grin.

“Deep sea fishing,” he reiterated. “Have you ever been? Oh, never mind,” he murmured, scratching behind his ear again. “I forgot. You’ve never been to the gulf. And I assume, no other beach as well?”

She sent him another side eye and a smirk. “You assumed correctly.” She climbed off the bed and stood before him. “What is it? A charter? What time is our reservation?”

“Nope, not a charter,” he informed her. “Right behind the pool, on the other side of all that green, is the dock.” He smiled down at her. “The Jolly Roger will be at that dock in,” he checked his watch, “less than an hour.”

Her eyes were nearly comically wide now. “The Jolly Roger?” she choked out, “Are you kidding me? What is it with you and pirates?” She shook her head.

He laughed at her dubious expression. “No, I’m not kidding you, Swan,” he said, shaking his head and waggling his eyebrows at her with a delighted twinkle in his eye. “And, I mean, you were the one who watched Black Sails. I think the name of the ship in the dream, must have been from me.” His gaze turned sheepish. “I’m sorry again for last night, Swan. I…”

“Nope,” she said. “We’re not talking about that. You have a wonderful day planned. Let’s focus on that.”

"You’re right, Swan.” He turned away and retreated to the door of her room. “Like I said, breakfast is ready, so get a move on. I’ll see you up there.” He shut the door gently behind him.

~*~*~

Killian was sitting at the table finishing his coffee when Emma finally made an appearance about thirty minutes later looking much more awake than when he had left her. She wore a red crocheted top with three-quarter sleeves over patterned shorts. Her hair was pulled into a messy braid that lay over her shoulder. The sheepish look she sent him was all kinds of adorable and caused his lips to pull into a smile as he brought his coffee cup up to his lips.

“Uhh,” she worried, “I wasn’t sure what appropriate attire was for deep sea fishing,” she finished, waving her hand vaguely over her body.

“Honestly, Swan,” he began, “your bathing suit and a t-shirt cover-up will be fine. Sunscreen and a sunhat are actually more important. Keep you from getting burned. Do you have rubber soled shoes?”

She nodded as she made her way to the coffee pot. “I brought my tennis shoes.”

“They’ll be fine,” he assured her. “There’s homemade French toast and bacon in the oven. I’ve already eaten. What do you like on it? Powdered sugar? Syrup?” he asked getting up from his chair and coming into the kitchen area.

“Syrup please,” she murmured. He got the syrup out for her and sat it down on the table. She dug in to breakfast with a gusto that surprised him.

“It’s not going anywhere, Swan,” he chuckled. “There’s plenty, and I promise to feed you again at lunch. Speaking of, what would you like me to make for us?”

She grinned around her full mouth. The unintelligible, but entirely adorable mumble that came from her pulled a full laugh out of him. After swallowing, she tried again. “French toast is my favorite. I can’t help digging into it like there’s no tomorrow. What kind of jam is there?”

He made his way to the fridge to search for jam. “We have grape, strawberry, and apple butter.” He straightened back up again. “What did you have in mind?”

“Can we make peanut butter and jelly? With the strawberry jam?” she asked. The almost guilty look on her face made his gut tighten in indignation and made him wonder what or who in her past would make her so hesitant to ask for something as simple as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He couldn’t let her know that though, so he smiled at her instead. “Of course we can. Do you like crunchy or smooth peanut butter?”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh smooth, please,” she enthused. Her eagerness waned slightly as she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to people really caring what I think when it comes to things like that. I mean, Ingrid, my mom, does, but…” she trailed off.

“Wounds made when we’re young tend to linger,” he conceded, nodding. “And I’d imagine that in the foster system, there wasn’t much catering to simple desires and wants. I understand,” he murmured, coming over to her, sitting down next to her, and taking her hand. His eyes met hers and he forced all the sincerity he was feeling into his eyes for her to see. “When it comes to me, Swan,” he continued, “get used to it.”

She nodded slowly, their gaze never breaking. He saw a hesitancy in her eyes that made him want to gather her in his arms and promise that nothing would ever hurt her again. But he knew that love and trust were earned and making rash and ultimately impossible to keep promises would do nothing to move him closer to that goal. So he settled for pouring everything he was thinking and feeling into his eyes and hoping that she would read it. He stood up and went back to the kitchen to prepare their lunch while his Swan finished her breakfast.

~*~*~

“I didn’t even notice this yesterday when we were touring the house,” she enthused, nearly skipping down the dock. Her obvious delight at their excursion thrilled him as well, as he tried, unsuccessfully, to smother his grin and a small chuckle.

She stopped in front of the luxury boat at the end of the dock. The grin she sent him made his heart soar. “Behold! The Jolly Roger! She’s a World Cat Glacier Bay Edition Catamaran. We could run from here to the Bahamas if we wanted to.” He passed her and climbed on holding his hand out to her to help her aboard. “And this is her Captain, Nemo Dakkar.” He indicated the tall, bald man to the side.

He bowed low as he took her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. “Welcome to the Jolly Roger, milady. We will be heading south from the island about forty miles before we weigh anchor and spend a few hours fishing the depths. We also have snorkeling equipment aboard if you’d like to get in the water.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain Dakkar,” she replied, with a slight blush.

“Oh please,” he waved away her formality, “call me Nemo. Have to take advantage of a name like that,” he continued, with a twinkle in his eye.

She let out a laugh that completely relaxed the tension that he could see in her shoulders when she met Nemo. He was so good at putting people at ease, Killian was pleased to see him work his charms on his Swan.

Nemo took the small cooler that held their lunch and turned from the couple to head to the cabin. After settling himself and Emma comfortably on the bench seats behind where Nemo was seated, Killian nodded to him to start the engines.

As they pulled away from the dock, Killian watched Emma closely. She had changed clothes as he suggested into her bathing suit with a sleeveless button up top and shorts over it and tennis shoes. The straw hat on her head and sunglasses on her face did nothing to hide the joy in her wide smile. “You didn’t notice the boat yesterday because it wasn’t here, Swan,” he informed her, shouting above the roar of the twin Yamaha engines. “She’s docked on South Padre Island. I called Nemo last night and asked him to be here at ten this morning.”

“I see,” she shouted back laughing, as the wind tried to whip her hat off her head. Watching her smile and laugh as their temporary home got smaller and smaller behind them, Killian hoped that everything they experienced today would make for a day to remember.

~*~*~

“Tell me a favorite memory of you and Liam,” she asked, smiling.

“Oh, are we playing twenty questions again, Swan?” he joked, with a smirk and raised eyebrow. They had finally reached their destination in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico and had set their rods. Now they just had to wait. Emma had taken off her outer clothes and was sunning herself on the seats at the stern of the boat. The bright blue bikini left little to the imagination and Killian was having a lot of trouble keeping his thoughts from straying into uncomfortable territory. Uncomfortable territory with their audience nearby anyway. So he was thankful when Emma asked him the question.

“Hmmmm,” he pondered. “My favorite memory with Liam.” A grin broke out on his face. “You’re gonna think I’m awful for saying this, but you remember asking if I was competitive?” Emma nodded. “So, March 2004, Liam and I were skiing in Aspen. I was on spring break before I graduated.” Emma’s eyes lit up. “A pretty lass had caught Liam’s eye and he was trying to impress her, so he was being entirely too foolhardy in challenging me to a race. He should have known that I wasn’t going to take it easy on him just so he could impress his lovely lady.” He chuckled, looking down. “Once again, I handed his ass to him. And not only did I beat him, but he took a tumble as well breaking his ankle. I mean, he was fine, eventually. No lasting effects, but it certainly makes for a funny memory for a younger brother.” He looked back up with a wide grin on his face.

“March 2004?” she asked, her eyes dancing, “Do you remember exactly when? I was supposed to be on a senior trip during our spring break in Aspen.”

“Really?” he exclaimed, surprised. “I don’t remember exactly when we were there, but there was a big jazz festival going on that week.”

“Yes!” she laughed, “That’s when we were going. For the jazz festival! I didn’t get to go because I sprained my ankle the week before at a softball game.” Her face fell then. “I cried the entire week they were gone. I don’t know why. I wasn’t even that excited for the trip. I mean,” she amended, holding her hand out to him, “I was looking forward to it, don’t get me wrong,” she shrugged, “but not enough to warrant all the crying I did that week. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something. Something important.”

Killian could feel the blood draining from his face. He suddenly remembered that week, with perfect clarity, hovering in that in between state between waking and sleeping, hearing a girl cry as if her heart would break. When he would wake up fully, the crying was gone. He had forgotten about it until this very moment.

“Wait a minute,” he speculated, with a frown on his face, “I remember a group of kids there that week with these obnoxious tie dye lime green and turquoise t-shirts and yellow baseball caps. I remember them because they kept singing this NSYNC song, Bye Bye Bye, but with different words.”

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed, “Those were my friends! And I wrote those lyrics! Oh that is hysterical! That you were there the same week I would have been.” She looked over at him as realization dawned. “I should have been there when you were there.”

Before he married Milah. Before losing who, at the time, he thought, was the love of his life. Would he have met her back then? If so, would that have stopped him from marrying Milah? Sparing him that heartache that was to come? He’d never know. But he couldn’t help but think that if he had met her back then, his life would have been different. He sent her a despondent smile before shaking off his melancholy. “Ok, my turn,” he said, determined to take their conversation into a happier direction. “What was the first movie you saw in a theater?”

She laughed. “You may not believe this, but I remember seeing _Aladdin_ in the theater. My first grade class took a field trip to see it before Christmas break. What about you?”

“My first movie was _Honey, I Shrunk the Kids_. Favorite movie of all time?”

“The Princess Bride.” She looked down with a slight blush to her cheeks.

“What?” he inquired, as she lifted her face towards him again. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed about loving The Princess Bride. It’s one of my favorites, too.”

“Really?” The amazed hope in her eyes made him catch his breath.

“Are you kidding? Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles… how could it not be?”

She sent him a bemused smirk. “Saw what you did there,” she murmured. Now it was his turn to blush and look down. “What about your favorite movie?”

“Star Wars, the original trilogy,” he answered definitively, with no hesitation whatsoever. “Uhhh… favorite book.”

“My book of fairy tales.” The enhanced blush on her cheeks made his heart stutter in his chest. While the blush may have given away her nervousness at revealing something so personal, she held her head high, refusing to back down from the intimacy engendered by such a revelation. “One of the few good families I had growing up gave it to me for Christmas. I was seven.” She looked down then. “All the stories in the book started with hope. Reading them over the years, helped me keep my hope alive that there was a family out there for me. Someone to love me.” She looked up again with a tremulous smile before nodding toward him for his answer. But he couldn’t. Not until he held her in his arms and assured her of his love for her. Without words of course. He rose to cross over to her when a jingle to his left caught his attention.

“I think you may have caught something, Swan,” he informed her, looking towards her rod and reel.

Emma scrambled up from where she was lounging on the padded seat to where her rod was secured on the edge of the boat.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed. “What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?” Her excitement and trepidation were hilarious and Killian couldn’t hold back his laugh.

“Reel it in, Swan,” he encouraged. She took the rod in her hands and was nearly pulled overboard, unprepared as she was for the weight of her catch, before Killian grabbed her around her middle and pulled her in to him, securing her back to his front so she’d have the leverage to reel it in. He murmured encouragement in her ear as she leaned against him and did battle with whatever was on the other end of her line.

About ten yards from the gunwale of the boat, the fish made a mighty leap into the air, trying to free itself from Emma’s line. “Swan,” he shouted, “That’s a king mackerel! And a good size too!” Nemo had been standing by waiting for the fish to make an appearance. As Emma finished reeling it in, he pulled the fish over into the boat and unhooked it from the line.

Emma turned around and threw herself into Killian’s arms. “I did it, I did it, I did it!” she shouted. The smile that split her face made his heart soar.

He spun with her in his arms, laughing with her. “That you did, Swan. Well done!” He placed her on her feet, but continued to hug her in celebration of her success.

“Oh this is gross, Killian. We’re sticking together,” she mock complained, pulling out of his arms. She looked up into his face as he went very still. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s the first time you’ve called me Killian,” he murmured.

“Is it?” she asked, with a furrowed brow.

“Yes, Emma, it is.” His azure gaze penetrated the confusion that swirled in her jade depths. The only time he had ever called her Emma, was when she’d called him after the last dream. It was always Swan or Miss Swan in their interactions before and since. Just as it had always been Mr. Jones, Jones, or sir. With her use of his first name, he felt the need to use her first name as well. He pulled her closer again, wanting to impress upon her the importance of the moment when he was interrupted by a series of trills, clicks, and whistles off the port side.

Emma turned wide eyes toward the pod of dolphins that were frolicking and chirping in the water only a couple of feet from the boat. “Dolphins,” she exclaimed, delighted. She turned back to him and Nemo, eyes the size of saucers. “Can we get in the water with them?” she asked, a hesitant hope in her eyes.

“Of course you can, my dear,” the captain laughed. “Leave your hat and sunglasses here. I’ll get out the camera and take pictures.” Emma needed no other encouragement. As she took off her shoes and accessories, Killian got out the snorkel equipment for them both. When they were both properly outfitted, they jumped into the water.

There were ten dolphins in the water including a couple of much smaller ones. The mamas were protective of the little ones, not letting the humans get too close, but the others were eager to play. Killian was in awe of the creatures and watching Emma interact with them brought tears to his eyes and laughter to his heart. He thought his heart would burst when Emma placed a kiss to the nose of one of them. They were both taken for a ride, holding on to the dorsal fin of one of the more adventurous creatures. The animals would often look at the boat and seem to pose for Nemo with the camera. Killian was delighted that Nemo not only took pictures of him and Emma swimming and playing with them, but got pictures of just the dolphins when they were jumping out of the water. After about forty-five minutes of frolicking with the animals, the pod moved away from the boat and Killian and Emma made their way back to it.

~*~*~

Nemo helped Emma back into the boat as Killian came up right behind her. The stunned disbelief on her face melted into pure joy as she laughed at the marvelous adventure they’d had that afternoon. “I still can’t believe it,” she sighed, “I’ve never,” she shook her head, “even been that close to a wild animal before, outside the zoo. And to actually touch one…” she trailed away with a sense of wonder that she knew was all over her face.

She looked at Killian as he came up behind her. “Aye, Swan,” he agreed. “It’s something we’ll never forget.” The moment was too poignant and emotional. She stepped into his open arms and let him hold her. She held the tears she could feel gathering at the corners of her eyes back only by sheer force of will. The emotions on a rampage inside of her demanded an outlet and finally found that release in a barking sob.

“It was so beautiful,” she cried into his shoulder, “and perfect. And I’m so happy. And I’m so sad it’s over. And I’ll never forget it. As long as I live.”

“That’s right, Swan,” he murmured, “let it out. Let it all out. I’ve got you.” He continued to hold her, whispering assurances and what comfort he could in their shared experience. When her sobs finally started to taper off, he reluctantly released her and turned to Nemo. “So let’s see those pics, shall we?”

Emma wiped her eyes and hiccuped as the captain strode forward with the camera. “We also have to get a picture of Emma with her mackerel.”

“Yes, we do,” Killian agreed, smiling down at her and taking the camera. “Ready lass?” he asked. Nemo approached again with her catch and a bright smile broke through the tears at last.

“I weighed it, and this bad boy weighs 47lbs,” the captain exclaimed, his eyes lit up in approval. “Well done!”

Emma let out a watery laugh. “Thank you,” she marveled, taking her fish from Nemo. He took the camera back from Killian and took pictures of the fish, Emma holding it up, and then Emma holding it between her and Killian.

“Now, before we head for home,” he informed them, “I’ll clean it and put it in the fridge. And y’all can have king mackerel for dinner tonight.”

While they waited for Nemo to finish the arduous undertaking of cleaning the huge fish, Emma and Killian sat side by side and scrolled through the pictures of their dolphin adventure. There were also pictures of Emma reeling in her catch. She was near tears again as she looked at the images. There was one that Nemo had caught of one of the dolphins fully jumping out of the water.

“Oh, now I’m getting that one made into a canvas and putting it on the wall,” Killian promised. “Now whether it’s in my office or here or at home will remain to be seen.” He smiled widely at her.

Smiling back, she asked him, “Why not all three? I know I wouldn’t mind seeing that picture wherever I was.”

“You know, you’re right,” he agreed. “Why can’t I have that picture at all three places. Thank you Emma,” he breathed, awareness sparking in his gaze. Slowly he lowered his lips to hers. She smiled into the kiss and opened for him when his tongue requested entrance. She struggled to maintain some semblance of awareness of where they were and who was nearby as he deepened the kiss. She moaned as he lit a fire in her blood when one of his hands reached her breast. She clutched his shoulders as he pulled her closer until she was nearly sitting in his lap. Their tongues continued to duel and their hands continued to roam until they heard a loud clearing of a throat just before the engines roared to life. Breaking apart with a guilty glance back at the captain, who only smirked at them in return, they tried to bring their breathing and heart rates back under control. Killian stood up, rather awkwardly in her opinion, and began to reel in his rod. In all the excitement, they had completely forgotten about it. Once he had it stored, he gave the signal to Nemo and they were off.

Once Killian sat back down, Emma settled herself in between his spread legs and leaned back onto his chest with her head resting on his shoulder. Content just to be there and be held by him, she felt herself start to drift off, safe in the arms of the man she loved after one of the best days of her life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is about 90% smut. It begins at the first POV change. Feel free to skip if it’s not your thing.

“We’re home, love,” Killian murmured in Emma’s ear.

He watched as she blinked her eyes open, looked around, and saw that they were pulling up to the dock behind the house. Sitting up from his chest, she stretched.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked with a smirk on his face and eyebrow raised.

“Mmmmmm,” she hummed, her arms raised up above her head before she turned to him and caught his smile. “Yes, I did. I had a very plush, fuzzy pillow to sleep on.” She sent a matching smirk his way and looked up at him from underneath her eyelashes. “It’d be good to sleep on tonight, too,” she whispered huskily, placing her hands on his chest and leaning in. He couldn’t help the way his cock stirred to life with her warm breath tickling the shell of his ear.

“Minx,” he replied, pulling her back into his chest so that he could claim her lips. It was brief, a chaste kiss that did little to cool the ardor in his blood. Releasing her, he smirked as she looked rather discombobulated, whether from just waking up from a two hour nap or his kiss, or a combination of both, he couldn’t tell. But it did give him a sense of male pride that his kiss may be responsible for it.

He got up and approached Nemo, hand outstretched towards the captain. “Thank you, my friend. I think it’s safe to say,” Killian glanced bashfully at Emma after Nemo shook his hand, “that we had a wonderful day today.”

“I’m so glad you did,” Nemo replied. “And milady,” he remarked, turning to Emma and taking her hand, “I hope to see you on the Jolly Roger again soon.” He bowed low and placed a kiss to her knuckles as he bid them farewell.

Killian, with the cooler on his arm, disembarked to the dock and held his hand out to Emma. Once she joined him, he held out his elbow for her to take as he escorted her through the greenery that surrounded the pool. The sun was already well behind the screen surrounding them, so as they stepped into the pool area, it was already a cool, shaded oasis away from the blazing South Texas sun.

They continued into the house where Killian unpacked the cooler and Emma looked up recipes for how to cook her prize. Finding an easy baked fish recipe, Emma handed Killian her phone while she got to work preparing sides and opening the wine.

Settling down to their meal, Killian smirked at her. “My turn to ask a question,” he cajoled. “First though, since I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, my favorite book is probably _Lord of the Rings_.”

“_Lord of the Rings_,” she asked, delighted, “I love it too! But I would have thought _Peter Pan_ was your favorite, with the _Jolly_, I mean.” Her eyes twinkled merrily.

“Oh, well, I have fond memories of my mom reading it to us before she died.” He shrugged and scratched behind his ear. “So, that’s where the name came from. Captain Hook was my favorite character. But as far as my favorite book that _I’ve_ ever read, it’d have to be _Lord of the Rings_. The world building and the history, languages, everything, just fascinate me. Now, tell me about one of your best memories growing up.”

Emma sat back and took a sip of her wine. She appeared to be lost in thought for a moment before she came back to herself. “How I found out that Ingrid was going to adopt me.” She nodded decisively. “That is without any doubt my best memory. It was my 15th birthday. I’d been with Ingrid for two months by that time. She took me, just me, to the carnival that was in town. We played carnival games, rode the rides, about made ourselves sick with cotton candy and funnel cakes. I laughed more that day than I ever had in my life.” She smiled softly, remembering.

“As the day was coming to an end, we stopped and got a hot dog from one of the vendors. When we sat down to eat, Ingrid pulled out a large catalog envelope from her bag and sat it in front of me. I knew that those kinds of envelopes contained new assignments for us foster kids. I remember my vision blurring as I realized that she was sending me away, and she must have decided to try and make me feel better by taking me to the carnival.”

Tears filled her eyes at the memory and Killian took her hand in his. “Ingrid was watching me closely to gauge my reaction and it didn’t take her long to realize that I had the wrong idea. She grabbed my hand, just like you did,” she said, nodding to their joined hands on the table, “and all but cried with me as she tried to convince me that she wanted to adopt me, not get rid of me.”

A smile broke out then as a tear escaped its confines and tracked down her cheek. Killian reached over and caught it on the pad of his thumb. She wiped the rest of her tears away with the back of her other hand. “So yeah,” she repeated, looking down, “that’s my favorite memory. The rest of the kids in the house were reassigned by the new year and the adoption was final on February 7. We still celebrate it,” she whispered.

“As well you should,” he agreed softly, willing her to look up at him. When she did, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

She looked away, blushing. “Well, you did ask,” she murmured.

She unclasped their hands and dug into her meal. The conversation never flagged or veered into uncomfortable territory for the rest of the evening. The flirting, banter, and innuendo flowed as freely as the wine as they enjoyed the baked mackerel with new potatoes and asparagus.

When they finally finished their meal and cleaned up the kitchen, Emma turned to him with eyes wide with nervousness and hope. “Do you want to try this again?”

“Do you?” he asked. “I’m so sorry for last night, Swan,” he murmured, coming over to her and drawing her into his arms. “I mean,” he tried to explain, “I can’t say I’m truly sorry for stopping last night, for the reasons I gave you. But I certainly didn’t intend to hurt you. Or to make you think that you were anything less than completely desirable. But I also think that after the day we’ve spent together, there’s a better and stronger connection between us. And that will only make things better. Don’t you think?” he asked, the tips of his ears burning and all the hope he felt shining in his eyes.

“Yes, I do,” she agreed. She placed a finger on his lips when he opened his mouth to say more. “Shhhh,” she quieted him, “It’s not time for talking now. Let’s forget about last night and move forward.”

He nodded, drawing her finger into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the tip. His midnight blue eyes, holding all his love and desire, held hers as she drew in a sharp breath.

~*~*~

Staring into his eyes, she came to a realization. She was done. Done fighting. Done fighting against what he was asking for. Done fighting against what she wanted. She was his and he was hers. At least, she hoped he was. She rose up on her toes and drew his mouth to her own. She could still taste the Chardonnay on his lips as he traced the seam of hers with his tongue. She moaned as she granted him entrance and tangled her hands in his hair as he maneuvered her head just right to deepen the kiss. She lost all sense of space or time as he leisurely explored the recesses of her mouth and received her own in kind.

She wrapped her legs around his narrow hips as he lifted her from her feet. His hands held on to her ass as he walked them to the master suite, continuing to plunder the depths of her mouth. Their lips finally separated as he deposited her on the bed. She looked up and caught her breath at the desire that blazed in his eyes. Desire for _her_. She pushed herself up towards the pillows as he climbed up and hovered over her.

“I have dreamt of this so many times over the years, Swan,” he admitted, lowering himself on top of her, peppering light and teasing kisses to her jaw and neck. “Please tell me this is real, Emma. Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he murmured into her skin.

“You’re not dreaming,” she gasped, as his lips closed on her pulse point and gave a hard suck. The pleasure shot straight to her core and she could already feel the tightening coil as she writhed beneath him.

He released her with a smirk as he looked down to admire his handiwork. Soothing the area with his tongue, Emma thought she would die from his attentions before he even got her clothes off. Backing away from the edge he had already brought her to, she pulled his lips back to hers again. She felt like she could kiss him forever. _The dreams didn’t hold a candle to the real thing,_ she thought as their tongues danced and desire flooded her.

Her hands explored his clothed chest until they worked their way under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his abdomen and pecs. She could feel Killian begin his own explorations as he slowly caressed her through her shift. She pulled his shirt over his head, whimpering when they had to break the kiss to do so. His lips crashed back to hers as his hands started working on the tie of her coverup. He rose above her as he drew the sides away from her scantily clad form. His eyes darkened even further as they roved from her face to her breasts to her center and down her long legs.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was keeping my mind out of the gutter today when you were sunning yourself on the _Jolly_? All that bare skin on display, kissed by the sun,” he murmured, lowering himself to her again and kissing down her neck, collar, and sternum until he reached the bottom of the bikini top where he plunged his tongue into the gap between her breasts and the flimsy pieces of fabric that kept them from his sight. Her skin was on fire as he reached behind her, untied, and removed the offensive material. “So beautiful, so perfect,” he crooned, soaking her in, “mine,” he finished, his voice nearly a growl as his tongue flicked out and swirled around the sensitive bud.

“Yes, yours,” she keened, arching into him, “all yours.”

He drew her aching nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth and she thought she might explode from the pleasure that he sent zinging through her body. His hand sought out the neglected breast as his mouth continued its sensual assault on its twin. Weighing it in his hand, his fingers circled and plucked until her nipple was a sharp peak. She could feel herself approaching the edge again as he continued his erotic ministrations. He released her breast with a pop and sent her a smouldering smirk before he pushed and held her breasts together and flicked each nipple back and forth with his tongue. The action sent her to even greater heights before he released her and continued kissing a trail down past her navel until he reached the even flimsier excuse for a cover over her most intimate place. He nosed at her covered center, inhaling deeply.

“Killian,” she moaned, “Killian, please,” she begged.

“As you wish, darling,” he whispered into her overheated skin.

He pulled the bikini bottoms down her long legs and tossed it over his shoulder as he kissed his way back up her limbs. She shivered in ecstasy as he got closer and closer to where she was wet and aching for him. He nosed at her curls and drew a finger through her soaked folds.

“All this, for me?” he asked, flicking his tongue out to taste her essence that coated his finger. He drew it fully into his mouth and shut his eyes as he moaned in appreciation. “You taste divine, Emma,” he groaned, releasing his finger with a pop. “I can’t wait to taste you properly.” He settled himself between her legs and looking up at her through his lashes, his eyes held hers. “May I?” he implored her.

Emma thought that she would explode if he didn’t put his mouth on her soon. She nodded, wordlessly before her arms gave out and she landed flat on the bed just as she felt Killian’s tongue draw a long swipe through her drenched core. She keened as she felt him plunge two fingers into her dripping center all while drawing her clit between his lips and sucking for all he was worth. She detonated with a scream of his name as her thighs clenched on either side of his head holding him to her. He brought her down slowly as she mumbled incoherently into the pillow she rested on. When she came back to herself, Killian sat on his haunches in between her legs with his cock on glorious display to her appreciative gaze. He must have removed his trunks at some point during all that.

Beckoning him forward with a sultry gaze on his splendid cock, she whispered, “My turn.”

She raised herself from where she lay on the bed and pushed against him until he was flat on his back with his head toward the foot of the king sized bed. She straddled him and ground down on his impressive length, watching as his eyes rolled in the back of his head with a long moan working its way out of his throat. He grabbed her hips and held her there as he thrust his hips into hers, creating delicious friction, but not giving them both the contact they craved.

She backed away from him until his red and weeping cock was squarely in her sights. She flicked her tongue out and caught the bead of precum that had gathered at his slit. “Mmmmm,” she hummed, “delicious.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes and beheld her man thoroughly wrecked. His pupils were blown until only the thinnest rims of midnight blue remained, and his hair was sticking up in every direction from where she’d been grasping it.

Emma leaned forward and took him into the moist heat of her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down his length, every other beat swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. She could feel herself getting wetter as she listened to his moans and pleas. She hollowed out her cheeks and gave him a good suck before releasing him with a pop. She shot him a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile before she crawled back up and claimed his mouth with her own.

She could still taste herself on his tongue as they battled for dominance. He wound his fingers in her hair as he crushed her body to his. Releasing her lips suddenly, he flipped them toward the head of the bed. She was on her back with her legs spread for him as if they had done this dance a thousand times before. Killian stared into her eyes as he settled himself in the cradle of her thighs, his cock hitting her just right. He ground his hips into hers, coating his length in the evidence of her desire. Demanding lips met hers in a passionate kiss of possession as he lined himself up at her entrance.

Wrenching her lips away from his, she peppered his scruff and neck with teasing, biting kisses as she waited for him to fill her. “Please, Killian,” she begged, “Take me now.”

“As you wish,” he choked out as he buried himself in her depths. She screamed as another blinding orgasm crashed over her. Her walls rippled along his shaft as he held himself still waiting for her to drift back to earth and join him in their mutual desire. When she opened her eyes, he began to move, holding her spellbound. She couldn’t look away from the passionate desire that burned in their cerulean depths. Her eyes fell shut after a few thrusts, relishing the feeling of him along her walls. The pleasure was too much, the tension coiled too tightly. He lifted her leg and rested it over his hip, changing the angle enough that she trembled on the edge yet again. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he reached between them and found her swollen nub.

“Come for me one more time, Emma,” he beseeched her.

She did as he bid with a silent scream and blinding white behind her eyelids. One, two, three more pumps of his hips and he joined her with a stuttering groan of her name. He pressed tender kisses into her shoulder and neck, before he claimed her lips with his own. Their heart rates started to even out as his tongue gently caressed hers. She whimpered as he rolled off of her before drawing her back into his arms.

“Sleep now, love,” he whispered in her ear, “We have all the time in the world.” He kissed her temple as she succumbed to dreams.

~*~*~

Killian woke sometime later with his arms wrapped around the woman he loved as her back was nestled against his front. He realized that, though there was nothing better than waking this way, his backside was cold. They had fallen asleep on top of the comforter, and after the sweat from their earlier exersions had evaporated, the running AC had cooled him enough now that he was wanting something between his naked skin and the air. He reached behind himself and tried to pull the comforter down enough that he could wiggle them both underneath it without waking his love. Unfortunately, even with his long arms, he wasn’t even close to the top of the comforter.

He rolled away from her and tried again, reaching for the top of the bed. Emma whimpered in her sleep and tried to snuggle back into him, reaching behind her to grab his arm and draw it over her body. She sighed contentedly when he rolled back to her, pulling the comforter down over them.

“What time is it,” she mumbled, still mostly asleep.

“I can’t tell,” he murmured into the skin behind her ear, placing a gentle kiss there. “My watch is on the nightstand and our phones are still in the kitchen.”

“Mmmmm,” she hummed, wiggling back into his arms.

She turned her head as he raised up to capture her lips with his own. He nibbled on her full lower lip before seeking entrance. She turned completely in his arms and tangled her fingers in his hair as she opened her mouth to his pillaging and plundering as if there was no tomorrow. He rolled her onto her back as his mouth commanded hers and his hands mapped the curves of her form. The low moan from the back of her throat told him that his efforts were appreciated, and with a growl of possession, his hands finally found the object of his desire where she was wet in her want of him. Her hips jerked as he sank two fingers into her welcoming heat and started the slow pumping that would bring her to ecstasy.

“There’s my Swan,” he praised, as she began riding his fingers. He watched as her face scrunched up in pleasure as she chased her release. “You are so beautiful when you come, Emma. I could watch you for hours.”

Emma tried to pull him back down to her, but he was having none of it. “Killian, please,” she moaned, her head thrashing back and forth, “I need…”

“I know what you need, darling,” he crooned, as he curled his fingers inside her just right and pressed his thumb into her swollen nub. “Come for me now, Emma,” he cajoled.

Her walls fluttered and clamped down on his digits like a vice. She let out an ecstatic moan that matched his own in length and volume before he crashed his lips into hers, prolonging her pleasure. He brought her down gently before lining himself up and sheathing himself in her scorching hot depths. They both let out a sigh of relief at being joined again so intimately before he slowly rocked into her, simply content to be one with her for a moment before his own need compelled him to move. Her own hips raised to meet him as he slowly pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back home again. Twin groans sounded the depths of their desire as they began to move together in a dance as old as time. Again and again his hips met hers as with each pass, he ground down on her clit, determined to bring her to climax with him inside her. He captured her lips with a desperate kiss when he felt her walls begin to flutter along his length. She kissed him back with an intensity that he could feel in his soul, as her arms tightened even more around him. She stiffened and moaned into his mouth as her orgasm crashed over her. The pulsing of her walls dragged him over into euphoria right along with her.

Killian continued to pump slowly into her as he felt himself start to soften. Holding her closely he buried his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. Placing a gentle kiss on her pulse point where he had left his mark earlier, he chuckled to himself.

“What,” his lover asked, somewhat dazedly.

He raised his head to look at her. “You smell like the ocean and sunshine,” he waxed poetically. She snorted and tried to push him away.

“Ocean and fish maybe,” she grumbled. “We never showered or anything after getting home.”

He couldn’t help the surge of happiness that rose within him at her use of the word ‘home.’ She looked up at him from under her eyelashes. “I seem to remember something about a whirlpool tub. A tub that fits two?” she asked coquettishly.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Indeed you did, Swan.” He pressed a brief kiss into her neck, eliciting a soft moan, before untangling himself from her and rising from the bed. “I’ll go run us a hot bath.” He sauntered away from her, knowing that she was staring at his bare ass, and unable to wipe off his grin at that knowledge.

“Make sure it’s very hot,” she yelled after him. “I want my skin pink when we get out.”

“As you wish,” he bellowed over the running water. Watching the water fill the tub as he stood over it, he felt svelte and toned arms wind their way around his middle.

Emma lay her head between his shoulder blades and placed a kiss there. “How much longer,” she whined.

He smiled and turned around in her arms, circling his own behind her back. Smiling down at her, he placed a peck of a kiss on the tip of her nose. “It’ll take several more minutes to fill a tub this size. But that doesn’t mean we can’t go ahead and get in.” He released her and crossed over to the vanity in between the double sinks. Opening the drawer there, he found what he was looking for. He turned back to find Emma just stepping down into the filling tub.

“Oooooooo,” she moaned as she stepped into the hot water. She settled herself down and turned her questioning gaze upon him. “What’s that?”

“This is the remote for the jets,” he said holding up the first object in his hand. “And this,” he clicked the lighter on and reached across the tub to the candles situated in the corner, “will light the candles for us.”

After lighting them, he straightened and placed the lighter back in the drawer before dimming the lights. Returning to the tub, he placed the remote on the side, and urged Emma to sit forward so he could take his place behind her. He wedged himself between her and the back of the tub and spread his legs so that she could come back and lay on him as she had that afternoon on the _Jolly_. She smirked at him as he situated himself before drawing her back to rest against his chest.

“Mmmmmm,” she hummed, “I got my furry pillow back,” she teased, snuggling down into him.

He could feel his cock begin to twitch as she wiggled her hips getting herself comfortable. His arms snaked around her and his fingers began their task of memorizing all the secret places on her body that made her shiver. He lay his head back against the edge of the tub and closed his eyes as he leisurely explored all that she had to offer him.

“I guess we should turn the water off now, huh?” she asked.

“Mmmmm,” he agreed, realizing that the water came up to her chest. He heard the water cut off as his hands cupped both of her breasts, testing their weight. “You have such beautiful breasts, Swan,” he praised. “I could sit here and simply touch you all night long and never get tired of gazing at your beauty.”

He thrust his hips against her backside as she tilted hers back to meet him with a broken sigh. He continued the kneading of her soft curves, rolling and pinching her nipples until they were hard points. She whimpered when his hands left their appointed tasks. One to pull her hair away from her neck and shoulder, so that his lips and tongue could join the sensual assault, the other traveling down to the molten center of her desire. When he flicked her clit, Emma slid down lower, spreading her legs further by draping them over his. Her hips rocked into his touch as a breathy moan left her lips.

“Leave your legs where they are darling, and come back up here to me,” he whispered in her ear. Keeping her legs spread, he lifted her hips and drew her back toward him before lowering her down on his rigid member.

“Oh, God,” she breathed. He lowered his head to rest on her shoulder as he basked in the glory of being inside her again. She reached up and behind his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. He pressed light and teasing kisses to her shoulder and neck as he slowly thrust into her willing heat. “Right there, Killian,” she moaned. He thrust again, feeling her shiver in his arms.

He relished making love to Emma in this way. Every inch of his skin was covered by her. Holding her to him, buried inside her, he felt whole in a way that he never had before. He knew there was no way he would ever be able to let her go. He would go to the end of the world for her. Or time.

The tension that was slowly building between them suddenly compelled him to brand her as his, from the inside out. He couldn’t lose her. His mouth clamped down on the other side of her neck from where he had already left his mark. He sucked heat to the surface of her skin as he tightened his arms around her and thrust into her like a man possessed. Her moans of rapture and the sloshing of the water barely reached his ears.

“Emma, Emma, Emma,” he chanted with every thrust. He could feel her walls poised on the edge of orgasm, so he reached back down and flicked her swollen nub. Her walls gripped him and they fell into the abyss together.

~*~*~

As she came back to herself, she felt Killian press tender, light kisses to the area that she knew he had left a bruise. “I’m sorry, Swan,” he murmured into her skin. “I think I got a little carried away.”

She smiled a sated, easy smile, and leaned back into his chest, turning her head until she could capture his lips.“Don’t worry about it,” she admonished, sending him a smirk full of mischief. “I think I rather like being marked by you. And I’ve got a matching set,” she said, running her fingers down both sides of her neck where he had left a sizable hickey.

“Minx,” he growled playfully, turning her around and pulling her even closer to him so he could take her lips again. After a few minutes of sweet kisses and gentle touches, simply intended to enjoy the other and not arouse, she pulled away and rested her forehead against his.

“You know, baths are not that great for getting clean,” she informed him, mirth dancing in her eyes. “And there is a rather large shower over there.”

“You’re right Swan, there is,” he agreed. “Shall we adjourn to it and actually get clean?” He waggled his eyebrows at her again with a smirk on his lips.

“I think that might be a good idea,” she admitted, standing up and letting the water droplets run down her body. The look in his eyes as he stared at her gave her a feeling of power and confidence like she had never felt before. He looked at her as if there was no one in the world as beautiful and desirable as she was and it melted her heart.

Breaking his gaze, she got out of the tub and walked down the steps to the shower in the corner. She turned it on as she heard him step out of the tub behind her. Stepping in, she saw body wash, shampoo and conditioner on the built in shelves. Killian joined her and pushed her under the spray.

He filled his hand with the shampoo and gently worked the vanilla scented substance through every strand on her head. She had never felt so cared for in her life. His gentle touches as he continued his ministrations, first washing and conditioning her hair and then her skin, brought her a peace and contentment that she thought she’d never have. This man, beyond any doubt, was her soulmate.

She smiled ruefully as Killian finished rinsing the body wash from her skin. She had shared the deepest secrets of her heart with him. His acceptance and understanding without pity, was somewhat unexpected, and deepened her love for him even more. And she knew he loved her. Even if he hadn’t said the words. It was evident in every look, every touch, every kiss. She felt whole with him. He completed her. Just like M’s said.

Turning to him, she raised up on her toes and kissed him with all the love in her heart. When they broke apart, several minutes later, they were both panting heavily. Without words, she filled her hand with the shampoo and massaged it through his raven locks. She washed his hair as his lips nibbled everywhere he could reach. “How am I supposed to wash your hair when you are doing that?” she asked.

“Not my problem, Swan,” he murmured into her skin. “How am I supposed to control myself when you’re standing there all naked and wet and _tantalizing_? Hmmmm?” He continued to kiss and nose along her jawline until she pushed him under the spray to rinse his hair and body and sank to her knees in front of him. He had denied her request to ravish him while he was attending to her, but now that she had her turn ministering to him, she could do exactly what she wanted to.

She wasted no time diving right in, swallowing him down until he hit the back of her throat. Looking up at him through her lashes, she saw his head thrown back against the tiles, the chords on his neck standing out as she bobbed up and down. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair as she continued her efforts. She gripped his base with one hand while the other fondled his balls. The unintelligible litany that poured from him made her smile around him as she felt his balls tighten under her assault. He tried to pull her off him as his member started to throb in her mouth.

“Emma, Emma, I’m gonna…” He exploded into her mouth with a long groan. She swallowed every drop and then licked his slit to make sure she didn’t miss anything. Leaving a parting kiss to his tip, she rose to her feet. Reaching behind him she turned off the shower while he recovered.

She let out a squeal when he unexpectedly pulled her into his arms and planted a firm kiss to her swollen lips. “You are a wonder, Swan,” he breathed. “And now, I think it’s time that we make use of that bed. For sleeping,” he asserted, with a finger to her lips as she sent him a saucy look.

After toweling off, they blew out the candles, turned out the lights, and crawled back into the bed. As she drifted off to sleep with the arms of the man she loved around her, she knew that she could never let him go. Her heart was in this for the long haul. She determined that she was going to take this week and think about what came next when they returned to Dallas.


	9. Chapter 9

The month since they’d gotten back from their trip had been the happiest month of her life. She could see why it was called the honeymoon phase. Sultry looks and secret smiles, stolen kisses in offices and sometimes more, nights spent at one of their places. If she thought that working together would be awkward, she was very pleasantly surprised to find that Killian, mostly, maintained his professionalism when there was work to be done, but as soon as it was, he was her tender and affectionate lover.

Word of their relationship had spread through the office like wildfire when they returned. It was too coincidental for them both to take a weeks vacation time. At the same time. With no contact during the week. Or advance notice. Killian had to tell Liam, and with Liam came Belle. Granny of course already knew. But it was arriving at work on Monday with a still visible hickey on her neck, even covered with makeup, that she faced the full scrutiny, interrogation, and subsequent delight of Ruby and Mary Margaret. She kept trying to tell them that it wasn’t serious at this point, but she couldn’t avoid the knowing looks thrown her way when she came out of Killian’s office with mussed hair and flushed cheeks. She was just thankful that M’s never gave her an ‘I told you so.’

The week after they got back, the meeting with Tiger Lily happened and the firm was hired to handle her advertising. With the new client and Killian being somewhat distracted with the planned opening of the LA office after the new year, she had nearly forgotten about being in the running for the Vice President of Marketing position there. Almost. She was starting to worry a little bit, seeing as they were now well into October and she still hadn’t heard anything. She didn’t want to mention her anxiety to Killian, because it would make her feel like she was taking advantage of their relationship. She simply told herself that if she hadn’t heard anything, then the other candidates probably hadn’t either, and she was simply going to have to wait just like them. Plus, and this was a pretty silly thought, with the complication of the new relationship, she didn’t want to remind him that she may soon be leaving him.

But that begged the question. Would she be leaving him? She had told herself that she was in this for the long haul. She loved him. But she also wanted the promotion. She wanted the paycheck and the recognition that came from her hard work. In LA, she’d essentially be in Killian’s position here. She’d have the freedom to take on new clients and she’d have people working under her. But did she really want that? She had people working under her here too. And Killian was here. She had to admit, staying here with him was the biggest draw to actually turning down the promotion if it was offered to her. She knew she loved him, wanted to stay with him, wanted a future with him, wanted forever with him. He all but said he loved her and wanted a future with her on their trip, but without those three little words, she didn’t want to lay out plans with any certainty one way or the other.

With the busyness at work and these kind of thoughts swirling through her mind, it was no wonder that she was susceptible to the illness that was making its way through the office. Aches and pains and digestive issues at all hours of the day and night were really starting to take their toll on her. After three nights in a row of strange, but normal strange, dreams that woke her up with such nausea, that she’d need to vomit before she could sleep again, Killian insisted she take today off, since they had the long holiday weekend ahead of them. She couldn’t argue too much given how truly rotten she felt, and when Killian kissed her goodbye and left for the office, she gratefully fell right back asleep.

~*~*~

“LA,” Liam Jones announced walking in to his office. Killian turned away from his computer and waved a hand at the conference table as he rose to greet his brother. Sitting down at the table, Liam continued. “It’s time we made a decision, little brother.”

“Younger brother,” he muttered under his breath, rifling through his desk. He pulled out the files of the final three candidates for the position. “Emma Swan, August Booth, and Greg Mendel,” he said, coming over to the table. “All qualified candidates, all with management experience.” He settled himself down in one of the chairs. “I have to say brother, I think Emma is the one we need out there. I have first hand knowledge and experience working with her, and I can personally attest to her work ethic and the quality of the work she puts out. She would be a tremendous asset in that market.”

Liam leveled an assessing look at him. “What about you? What about your relationship?” he asked.

_Damn_, he thought, _I should have known he wouldn’t just take my spill without questioning my motives. _Killian scratched behind his ear and wouldn’t meet his brother’s eyes. “Well, uh, truthfully brother…”

“Yes,” Liam prompted, without taking his eyes off his sibling.

“Truthfully,” he continued, looking down at his shoes, “I love her Liam,” he vowed with a sigh, finally looking in his brother’s face.

“Then why are you trying to convince me that she’d be of more use in southern California?” Liam’s voice was confused, but with an edge to it that he didn’t often see in him.

“I don’t know how she feels about me,” he nearly whispered. “I mean, not for sure.” He swallowed hard and looked away again. “I know I love her, and I want to be with her. Forever. But she’s never given me any indication that she feels the same way. I’m sure she cares about me, but I don’t know if what she feels for me is enough for her to stay here. I guess I’d just like to see what she’d do. If presented with the choice…” he trailed away.

“Oh, Killian,” Liam sighed, “You just want to know if you’re enough, don’t you?” Killian nodded, shamefaced at his cowardly action. “Have you talked to her about it? At all?” Liam implored him. “No, I don’t expect you have, have you? Killian, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. You have to fight for her. If you want her, you have to fight for her; for your relationship. Let her know exactly what you feel. Exactly what you want. Would you follow her there?” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture with a shake of his head. “Never mind. We can work out the details of the promotion later. Is she worth it?”

Pure, unadulterated shock bloomed over his face. “How can you even ask that, brother?” he thundered, “Of course she is!”

“Well then what are you still sitting there for, boy?” A new voice pierced the tension in the room. “I gave you that ring for a reason! Now go get her!” Granny stood at the door of his office, hands on her hips. Just like when he was growing up and she was about to give him a tongue lashing. His response was automatic.

“Yes, ma’am,” he yelped, nearly jumping out of his seat. “She’s at the house. She hasn’t been sleeping well and feeling pretty crummy. I think she may have the flu. We’ll see you on Tuesday,” he threw over his shoulder as he passed Granny in the doorway.

Granny turned to Liam with an amused smile on her face. “Well, that’s one way to get him moving,” she affectionately groused, “And what about you, young man? Your mother’s ring shouldn’t be gathering dust anymore. It’s high time for it to have a new home.”

Liam jumped up almost as fast as Killian had done, face as red as a tomato, stammering out all his reasons why he hadn’t made that leap for himself. Trying to dart by her, she reached up and cuffed him on the ear before chuckling, she turned to follow him out of the office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Emma?” he whispered, “Emma? Are you here?” Killian entered the bedroom, hoping to find his love still asleep. His forehead furrowed in confusion when all he found was an empty bed. He turned and headed to the bathroom, hoping he wouldn’t find her in there still sick. When he found the bathroom deserted, he moved back to the front of the house wondering if he had missed her somehow. When he came in the garage door, he’d gone straight to his office to get the ring that Granny had given him about a year after Milah had died to give to his intended. Her words, not his. She didn’t want him to lose hope that he might find love again. But after her statement back at the office, he wondered if perhaps she might have seen something even then.

When he didn’t find Emma on the couch, he pulled out his phone to call her when he saw a note on the bar.

_Hey Babe,_

_I remembered that I needed to go pick something up. Then I’m heading home afterward to hopefully get some more sleep. I’ll call you tonight. _

_E_

Killian was no fool and the note he held in his hand was quite disconcerting. The subtle hint that he wouldn’t be seeing her tonight left him feeling bereft and wondering why she felt the need to go back to her home instead of back here whenever she procured whatever she forgot. And did that mean that she was feeling better? Why didn’t she just call him and ask him to pick up whatever it was on his way home? He decided to call her anyway, just to see if she was feeling better and if she needed anything else. When his call went to voicemail, his mild worry over her location and well being turned into concern and even fear that threatened to eat a hole in his heart until he could see and hold her for himself.

Stuffing the ring in his pocket, he left his house and headed for Swan’s apartment. Praying the entire way that she was okay.

~*~*~

Emma sat on the sofa stunned. _Pregnant. _She was pregnant. She looked down again at the wand in her hand, just to make sure that there was no trace of a _Not_ in the window of the test. Why didn’t she see it sooner? Why didn’t she even consider the possible consequences of the nights, and days, of passion she shared with Killian on their getaway? Why didn’t she notice before now that her period was late?

Waking up after falling back asleep after Killian left for work, she noticed the date on her phone. October 10. Going back through her calendar, she saw that her period should have arrived around the first of the month. She put her face in her hands. _How did I miss this?_ She was usually so methodical and particular about things. Honeymoon phase, indeed. She was so busy at work and so busy being in love that the usual discipline that characterized her life was completely absent. She should have noticed… hell, she shook her head, she should have thought about birth control. How was she going to tell him?

And she would definitely have to tell him. She needed to go back to his place, she thought with dismay. The note she left him would probably leave him in a tizzy over where she was and if she was okay. He wouldn’t be back home for a few more hours, so she could sit here for a little while longer and try to come to terms with the knowledge herself.

She was jerked out of her thoughts when she heard a key in the lock. Looking around, she quickly shoved the pregnancy test under a throw pillow and lay down on it just as the door opened. Killian came in calling her name. “Emma?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, maybe a little more harsh than she needed to.

“I came to check on you,” he replied. “Your note left me a little concerned with how you’d been feeling lately.” He sat down on the sofa and pulled her feet into his lap.

“But, why are you home early?” she questioned. “I realized that the way I worded that note, probably wasn’t the best and I was planning on coming back before you’d get home.”

“Oh, well,” he replied, scratching behind his ear, “Yes, that. Uh, we need to talk, Emma.” He looked away from her and she saw his cheeks and the tips of his ears bloom a bright red.

“I find that when someone says that,” she nearly whispered, “I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation.”

He turned his face back towards her with a jerk. “What?” he asked, alarmed. “Oh, no, no, no Swan. No. I mean,” he continued, looking away from her again, sheepishly, “I hope, no. But that’s really up to you…” he trailed away, looking at her feet in his lap. He started rubbing nonsense into the arch of her foot that threatened to send her thoughts into totally inappropriate territory given the preface he’d just given her.

“What is it, Killian?” she breathed, before she totally lost herself to his ministrations.

“Uhm, us… and the promotion.” He looked back at her with his heart as well as trepidation in his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Liam, and Granny too for that matter,” he began, shrugging his shoulders and looking down, “made me see something. They made me realize that while I know how I feel about you, and I thought I’d made it pretty clear over the last few weeks, I never told you explicitly.” Emma’s heart thundered in her ears. “And with the decision of the promotion looming, we needed to be on the same page, one way or the other.” Emma nodded, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. Was it possible?

“Liam always says that a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. So I am here today to fight for you, Emma. Fight for us.” He got up off the sofa and sank down on his knees before her. His blazing blue eyes delved deep into hers. “I love you, Emma. I have for a long time. And there is nothing I want more than for you to stay right here. With me, with your family and friends. If your heart is set on this promotion, then I hope that you would allow me to come with you. Because if there is one thing I want you to know Emma,” he took her hand in his, “it’s that I’ll always, always be by your side. If you’ll have me. Emma Swan,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out a very familiar ring. Emma let out a gasping sob. “Will you make me the happiest and most blessed man alive and consent to be my wife?”

She was nodding and laughing through her tears before he even finished asking. Leaning over to him, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him as if there was no tomorrow. Drawing him up to the sofa with her, he hovered over her, never releasing her lips. Finally parting, he wedged himself between her and the back of the sofa, drawing her into his arms. Lifting her left hand to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss to the knuckles before he opened his other hand that held the ring. She couldn’t hold back her gasp.

“That’s the same ring from the dream, isn’t it?” she wondered, stunned.

“Yes,” he affirmed, “it is. If I remember correctly, in the dream I had it commissioned?” It was more of a question than a statement, as evidenced by the shrug of his shoulders. “I think so anyway. But in truth, this ring was Granny’s. Her wedding ring. When my parents passed, she took it off. My mother’s wedding ring had survived the crash, and so she eventually planned to give it to Liam for his bride and she planned to give me hers. I obviously didn’t know about it when I proposed to and married Milah. About a year or so after I lost her, Granny gave it to me telling me not to lose hope that I’d find love again. But something she said today makes me wonder if she didn’t know something even then. You hadn’t been working here long, but it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if she knew that you’d caught my eye. She’s a sly one for sure.”

She smiled gently at him. “What did she say?” she asked.

“She said, ‘I gave you that ring for a reason. Now go get her!’” He chuckled and raised her hand to put the ring on her finger. But before he could, she drew her hand away.

He looked at her in confusion. “What is it, Swan?” he inquired.

Now it was her turn to be nervous. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and couldn’t look at him. What if this changed things? What if he decided he didn’t want the baby? Didn’t want her? But he just asked her to marry him. That usually results in children, right? So he can’t be entirely opposed to the idea, right? Maybe just not quite this soon. She took a deep breath and looked at him. Reaching under the pillow she was laying on, she pulled out the positive pregnancy test. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at what she held in her hand. After a moment or two, those same eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline as he looked back at her, a look of hopeful joy in his eyes. “Emma?” he questioned, “Truly?” The excited shock on his face was comical, but she was able to hold back her laughter with the smile that broke over her face. A laugh burst from his throat as he took her face in his hands and crushed his mouth to hers. Her laugh broke free as he peppered kisses to her cheeks, eyelids, and nose.

“I take it that means you’re excited?” she asked.

“Oh Emma,” he breathed, “Shall I spell it out for you? Yes, I’m excited. You glorious, wondrous woman. What have I done to deserve you? Deserve this happiness?” His voice and tone lowered as he looked into her eyes again. “You’ve agreed to marry me, we’re having a baby, what more could I ask for?” He lowered his lips to hers again, kissing her thoroughly. When they broke apart, he asked, his eyes twinkling, “Now may I put the ring on your finger?”

She laughed again. “I had to be sure you’d still want to after my news,” she replied, holding her hand out to him. He pushed the ring onto her finger where it gleamed in the afternoon sun. “I love you too Killian,” she avowed, arresting him with her gaze, “And there is nothing I want more than to stay here, with you, with my family and friends. You’re everything I could ever want. Everything I could ever need.”

“As are you, my love,” he agreed, lowering his mouth to hers.

After that there were only sighs of happiness and moans of pleasure as they whispered words of love and longing and promise before their passion swept them away and deposited them on the shores of heaven on earth.

“Always and forever, Swan,” he murmured into her ear before sleep claimed them. “Always and forever.”


	10. Epilogue

**Five years later**

Killian looked up at the beach where his wife lay on her lounger under the umbrella. He couldn’t help running his tongue over his lips salaciously as he practically devoured her with his eyes. Suddenly he was hit with a splash from his left that nearly knocked him over into the waves.

“Stop ogling your wife, and take this little octopus off my hands,” Liam complained, good-naturedly.

“As if you don’t do the same thing, you jackwagon,” Killian retorted, reaching for his nephew. “Come here Little Liam,” he cooed, cuddling the toddler in his arms as he squealed his delight at being with his “Unca Kiwwy.”

After a while longer of playing in the surf, the trio headed for the beach where the ladies were laying out a picnic for the entire clan. Emma was mostly directing where to put everything, being in her third trimester with twins, she tired easily. Plus, she had promised him and her doctor that she would do absolutely nothing while she was down here. It was the only way she could get them to agree to let her come.

Stalking over to his wife, he could see her eyes widen as realization of what he planned to do dawned on her. “Don’t you do it, Killian,” she cried, holding a hand out to stop him. “Don’t you daAAHHH!” she screeched, when he shook his wet head all over her. Laughter erupted from all around them as he finally stopped and wiggled his way onto the lounger with his beloved. Rubbing his hand over her swollen tummy, he nuzzled into her neck and placed a tender kiss at her pulse point, making her gasp.

“How are you doing darling?” he asked. “And how are the girls?”

“I had no idea how hard it was to do nothing, honestly,” she groused, “but the girls are fine.” She placed her hand over his and moved it over to where one of the twins was poking her with her elbow or knee. A beatific smile broke over his face as he pushed back and spoke to his daughter.

“I see you there, little love,” he singsonged, “And your papa can’t wait to meet you in just a few more weeks.” He placed a kiss on Emma’s abdomen where the limb had been before he turned back to his wife. Emma’s smile was pure contentment when he looked back at her.

Turning back toward the rest of the crew, he saw Granny and Ingrid bringing the last of the food from their house. When he and Emma had married and Liam had finally popped the question to Belle, they knew it was time to build houses for the rest of the family on the island. Killian and Emma stayed in the main house, while a smaller one had been built for the grandmothers and Liam and Belle’s house had been built on the other side. When it was beach time, home base was Granny’s or Liam’s. Fishing, boating, or pool time, everyone came to their house.

He barely registered Emma calling their son away from his sand castle creation that the four-year-old had spent the morning perfecting. Liam and Belle started handing out plates for everyone to dish up Granny’s fried chicken, Gamma Ingrid’s potato salad, and all the other fixings that Belle had prepared.

As everyone dug in to the repast, Killian thought about the last five years and how much he’d been blessed. The agency was thriving, with not only the LA branch, but they had also opened an office in Chicago and were in talks of buying out an agency in Atlanta. He and Emma had married in February of 2015 right here on this island, surrounded by new construction and their family and friends. Brennan, named for his and Liam’s father, had been born just in time for Father’s Day, and he didn’t think that life could get much better. Liam and Belle had married here too in the spring of 2016, and Liam Jr, or Little Liam as everyone called him, followed a little over a year later. Now Emma was blessing him with twin daughters due next month. Tears filled his eyes as he twined his fingers with Emma’s and raised them to his lips. Looking at their matching sapphire and emerald rings brought all that joy, love, and contentment to the front of his mind. Turning to his wife, she raised her lips to his and lay a chaste peck on the tip of his nose.

“You looked far away there, Jones,” she quipped. “Where were you?”

He smiled down at his beautiful wife, the love of his life. “Somewhere between here and always and forever, Swan. Always and forever,” he sighed, lowering his face to hers.

“Always and forever,” she agreed, smiling into his kiss.

He may have fallen in love with her quite by accident, but he wouldn’t change a single thing about their story for anything in the world.

_~Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy epilogue for the win! Thank you all for taking this journey with me! Every flail, kudos, and message means the world to me! All the thanks and love to HollyeLeigh and winterbaby89 for all their love and support, plus phenomenal beta skills! Love you ladies so much!!! And internet hugs to the CSSNS discord ladies for all their encouragement and help while I wrote this!


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